Due to the intense and violent nature of the Crucible — particularly how it ends — some players might find themselves in a situation where their god will die. Because of this becoming more common as the rp goes on, I decided to make a system that not only softens the blow but might even be seen as a reward for losing their god. The point of this is so people who lost their god are not only still relevant but plot important even without their god.
This system is called the Badassery system and upon losing your god, you unlock this feature. Any mortal you control or write for or create before or after your god dies is eligible to use this catalog. While your god may be dead, their will can live on! Note that you only get 5 Badassery Points (BAP) per cycle, the same as might, but can still earn extra in our quizzes and prompts same as always.
The BAP catalog can be split into two major sections: mortal power, and channeled power. Mortal power is just the raw fuck you that mortals build up in a world controlled by warring gods while channeled power is a little help from the will of a dead god. In essence you can see channeled power as the remnants of your dead god still somehow existing in our living realm and aiding these mortals in their fight between the nodes.
0 BAP:
Say a badass one liner
1 BAP:
Push your body to the limit and perform a physical feat that would make Eleanna blush (Temporary)
Surge with power and push your magical abilities to the extreme, enhancing your normal magical power two fold (1 might equivalency) (Temporary)
2 BAP:
Create an artifact of 1 might equivalence (using mortal technology or magic)
Mortal rage: attack with the power of a 2 might blessed individual for a short time
Mortal Indomitability: Survive a killing blow
3 BAP:
Create an artifact of 2 might equivalence (using mortal technology or magic)
4 BAP:
Create an artifact of 3 might equivalence (using mortal technology or magic)
5 BAP:
Use mortal technology or magic to revive another mortal
0 BAP:
Prophet: let your body be taken over by the will of a dead god so that they may speak from beyond the grave
1 BAP:
Use the power of a dead god to change the weather temporarily
2 BAP:
Use the power of a dead god to enhance a spell to two might
3 BAP:
Use the power of a dead god to invent a new magic system
4 BAP:
Use the power of a dead god to bless yourself with a simple blessing or curse
5 BAP:
Use the power of a dead god to bless a fellow mortal with a simple blessing or curse
Benea stood at the wide bow window of her room. Xavier had been kind enough to let her stay at his own massive home and to commandeer one of the rooms. The room itself was very fit to Benea's likings with almost all the trappings of her home back at the pristine palace. Her bed was ridiculously large, her walls thickly decorated, and the floors polished to such a marble shine she could see herself in them. Despite all of this, none of it fetched Benea’s eyes and instead she found herself staring outside at the purple night sky.
The starry expanse blanketed the city, each speck of light reminding her of who had made it. Every memory put a stone in her stomach, until she was feeling nauseous with anxiety. So much had happened and none of it according to plan, she wasn’t sure if any of it was scavengable at this point and just the thought of that sent the blood from her face and made her feel light.
In fact, since she dismissed herself from Xavior and sweet Monica earlier, she had been trying to nap — hoping sleep would help. Unfortunately, all napping did was give her terrible dreams, a nasty case of bed head, and wrinkled her slip to the point that she wasn’t sure even Jermane could straighten it out without the biggest hot iron available. But she had bigger things to worry about.
She closed her eyes and let out a breath, only for it to come out as a shaky sigh. Benea felt cold, her arms wrapping around herself as she turned back to her enormous bed. Taking small, dread filled steps towards it, Benea eyed the biggest blanket the mattress had to offer and reached for it. Before her fingers could even wrap around the fabric, a hand gingerly wrapped around her arm, tugging her back away from it.
The Goddess gently spun as the owner of the hand turned her around. She turned only to smack face first into Garravar’s chest, his arms folding behind her and embracing her. Benea froze, her hands held out, not knowing where to go as the god held her close. Tears began to well in Benea’s eyes and giving up, she leaned into the embrace but didn’t return it.
“Do you forgive me?” Garravar’s voice came down from above.
Benea hiccuped on a sob, “no.”
“We can start over now, try again.”
“You did this, Garravar,” Benea closed her eyes but didn’t pull away. “This is all your fault.”
“You know it isn’t.”
Now Benea pulled back so as to look up into the god’s eyes, the crystal blue pools as cool and calm as ever. Benea’s own were fiery with emotion and tears. “You certainly didn’t help! So many… You did this to us.”
“I didn’t.” Garravar growled and let go of Benea. “You drove me to this, you drove it all into the ground. I gave you a choice-”
“You gave me an impossible choice!” Benea hissed back.
“It was one life!” Garravar retorted. “One life for all the others, you were greedy.”
“I was compassionate!”
Garravar let out a loud laugh. “And look where that got you, where it got the other.”
“You can’t blame me for your spear. Murder was your own choice.”
Slapping his hands with every word, Garravar enunciated. “You left me no choice.”
“There is always a choice…” Benea took a step back.
“Olipha.” Garravar frowned.
A pause.
Pushing a hand through his hair, Garravar reset his stern look with a softer one. “It’s over. This isn’t the seventh anymore, this is a new one. We can make the choice again, I offer you the same deal. What’s the matter this time, the gods of this crucible are nothing like the ones of the seventh. They don’t even like you, have no purpose or love for you, and neither you should have for them. We don’t even need to sacrifice just one.”
“You’re speaking nonsense.” Benea’s voice came out soft, a hollow horror echoing from her chest. “Please go away.”
“It can be just us,” Garravar continued, starting to pace as he thought out loud. “No troubles, no worries, a perfect paradise. The crucible over, just you and me like we wanted.”
Beana’s voice was barely audible. “I don’t want that anymore.”
Turning to the goddess, Garravar arched a brow. “What do you want?”
She simply shook her head. Benea's legs were shaking so much she walked backwards until the bed came up under her to catch her sit. Crossing her arms defensively, Benea looked away. ”I don’t know, I already messed everything up. Again.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Garravar defended. He bit his lip and turned to look out the window. “We have been given a second chance at this, my plan will work, I just need you. I always needed you.”
“Garravar, you killed me.”
The words seemed to linger between the two for a while. Slowly the winter god’s expression changed to a dark and angry one. He grit his teeth and squinted his eyes and Benea could feel a tension rise. She went to speak but hesitated, the winter god’s fingers curled and uncurling, shards of ice trickling down onto the floor.
“Think on it.” His voice finally came. “I’ll give you a second chance. We can end it all, or you can continue to play pretend and hurt everyone and everything.”
Another long pause. “I won’t let you get in my way again.”
Cracks formed over the winter god and them with a sharp break, he burst into a cloud of ice. The flakes dissipated and left the Calla Lily Goddess sitting on her bed, alone, with a pain in her heart.
Benea can’t sleep and is a stressed mess about everything when Garravar himself shows up and threatens her life if she doesn’t go along with a secret plan of his. Also a lot of backstory is revealed here… so spoilers buuuuut
Benea is revealed to be Olipha, and this isn’t her first crucible. Garravar is her old lover and together they once had a plan on how to end the crucible but Olipha got in the way.
Xavior appreciated the time between meetings and other business even more these days. You had to, in his opinion, enjoy the little moments in life when you got them.
For instance, he was spending some time with Monica today. Specifically, he and she were up on the roof of the temple in a lovely little overservation room from which you could watch the sky and the city go by. Down below the city hustle and bustle, and in the garden people strolled, studied, tended to the plants or practiced bug decapitation together, while above the flocks of Tonnikala swam through the ocean of air. It was a common sight to the people of the 12th realm, but sometimes you just had to stop, look up, and be awed by the absurd beings.
Little swooping minnows flead their horse sized kin while indifferent to it all the titanic sky whales lazily drifted, filter feeding the skies.
Deck chairs were set up in the observation room with the specific intent to tilt the sitter’s view up so they could take it all in while they relaxed and let the stress of the day wash away.
“Ah, now this, this is one of those little things that makes it all worth it” Xavior, clad in light garb and wearing a pair of darkly tinted spectacles, sighed as he leaned back and sipped on a drink made from lemons, dates and blue fruit (which tasted incredibly sweet on its own but made for a nice mixer), within which some ice he had made floated, “don’t you agree sister”
“I am afraid I cannot ascertain the value of such… that way of thinking does not come easily to me. However this sight brings me both joy and sorrow. Hmm… It is a world that is beautiful and grotesque in every aspect.” Monica replied from where she was seated upon a large plush cushion, letting her wings extend and embrace the warmth emitted from the bright sun while she sipped from an ornate cup filled with another mixture of fruits and sweeteners. She held out a hand and summoned a set of scales with various weights for measuring. “Worth it…” She softly repeated, staring at the implement with an impassive gaze.
“Xavior darling, you wouldn’t believe what your steward just said to me,” Benea crowed as she walked into the observatory, her staff fizzling with kickback. Jermane followed quickly behind her, his hands still over his eyes and shaking his head clear of incessant ear-ringing. “Something about needing to tell you before she could admit me, can you believe it? …Dear?” Benea let go of her staff (Jermane catching it before it fell to the floor) and put her hands on her hips.
The god was covering his nose, having most certainly not had any incident involving surprise and fluid spraying from said nose. “Benea. What an unexpected surprise” he managed, noting to himself that he really should invent some kind of long range god detection system at this point “and I assure you she was only following…” the god, having now recovered from his shock, glanced first at the fizzling staff and then at the half dazzled paladin and asked “what did you do to her?” with a mix of exasperation and concern.
Benea opened her mouth to explain but her eyes fell on Monica so instead only a small squeak escaped. “Monica!?”
Monica arose from her seat and faced Benea with a demure smile. “Benea… it has been a long time, beloved sister.” She murmured while she averted her gaze and held herself as anxiety kept her still. The beating of her heart thundered in her chest, and she repeatedly glanced at the other goddess with melancholic longing shimmering in her silver eyes, her mouth occasionally moving as if to speak but nothing except for further silence left her lips.
A certain look overtook Benea’s face, curling a sudden smile and with one swift movement she held out her arms wide and demanded. “Come here.”
Monica momentarily contemplated the words before approaching with hesitation, stepping within reach of her sister and struggling to enact the embrace herself. Without warning, Benea’s arms closed in on Monica, pulling her right into Benea. The Calla Lily Goddess at first gave Monica a gentle squeeze. “I’ve missed you so much, dear.”
“I have yearned to see you again as well.” Monica mumbled, her quiet voice almost lost in the fabric Benea’s dress as she spoke still enveloped in the hug. Her arms tenderly wrapped around Benea as well, and all of the time they had been apart wherein fear plagued her mind with endless macabre thoughts seemed akin to a distant dream.
Benea’s embrace tightened and Monica could hear her clenching her jaw just a little as she further engulfed the winged goddess. “Um, Monica dear, why didn’t you respond to my little messages?” Her arms flexed. “I was very worried about you, darling.”
“I have only recently received your messages… and I have yet to finish composing my response… Hmm… it seems strange to continue writing to you now that you are here. I apologize. I did not intend to cause you concern.” Monica explained, muffled and barely audible by Benea’s chest. Her white wings folded and covered Benea as well separating them from the rest of the world with a curtain of pristine feathers.
Flexing even more and slightly lifting Monica off the ground, Benea continued, “next time, darling, please just tell me you’re alive immediately.” With a huff, she clapped Monica back onto the floor and pulled her at arms length to look past her and at Xavior.
“And what was your excuse, sweet Xavior?”
“My messengers can never catch up with you” Xavior said, from where he was standing at the doorway next to the bespectacled steward who was still blinking the light out of her eyes, before insisting that “Now apologize for blinding Lissandra, because that was entirely uncalled for”
“Oh no no!” Benea pulled Monica back in as if she were some sort of doll and started to pat the top of her head idly. “I will not apologize, and don’t you be changing the subject so quickly. I have only just reunited with my little sister as well as yourself, I will not let it be soured by Cassandra.”
“By a who?” Xavior asked, this going over his head before he pointed out that “If you did not want to sour the mood you could have done without attacking someone for doing their job”
“No one was hurt, darling, I don’t think you can very well call it attacking — oh fine very well but just this once.” Benea let go of Monica and walked over to the recovering Lissandra, turning her head to look at Xavior. “And only because I’m in such a good mood.”
She put her fingers under Lissandra’s chin. “Cassandra dear, please look up at me.”
“Oh, no its fine um… wait that’s not my na-”
“Cassandra really, you already have Xavior in a fuss we misewell get this over with,” Benea’s voice was thin on patience.
The poor steward just swallowed and then accepted her fate. And her new name. Benea leaned down so the pair were eye to eye as she said. “I’m sorry, dear.” A whisper following. “But I do hope you’ve learned your lesson.” And with that, the smudge and blindness was taken from Lissandra’s eyes.
“All better!” Benea announced with a wide smile. “Isn’t that wonderful, Xavior dear?”
Xavior frowned at the speed at which Cassandra swiftly exited with a “yes ma’am, thank you ma’am” but with no mortal remaining to clear things up there was little but his suspicions to go on when it came to accusations.
So he sighed and said “Thank you for apologizing. Shall we start again?”
“Yes, of course.” Benea smiled and held out her arms. “You come here as well, dear.”
The god looked a little put off for a moment, then accepted his fate as well, stepping in to give Benea her mandatory hug. Benea gave Xavior a squeeze. “I did miss you as well, Xavior, especially these last few weeks. I hope you got notified about the node I shared with you as promised? See? I will never forget a promise, especially not to someone I hold so dear.”
The hug had yet to end.
“Yes? I have already put it to use in advancing technology once more… something, along with linking up with Monica, that took president over returning the gesture, which is why it took quite a while to occur” Xavior replied, getting very uncomfortable very quickly in the non-ending hug. From Xavior’s position, all he could see was Benea’s growing smile. “Oh don’t worry about that dear. I’m alive and here, and that’s what counts.” Finally she let go. “Though there are some serious matters at hand, is there not?”
“Yes…” Xavior said as he stepped back, out of hugging range, before coughing and trying to regain a professional demeanor and asked “are you about to add more to the pile?” referencing a littoral pile of all the things currently going wrong that existed in his office.
Benea cocked her head back and forth as if jumbling a thought. “I know you recently spoke with sweet Tsunya so you likely already have a pile or two about the Anak’thas situation, but I’m afraid it is worse than I initially theorized.”
“Worse than war?” Xavior asked simply “or has it entered some kind of new level of tragedy?”
“At first I assumed he was simply mad, but from our last encounter I realize he has been diseased by the nodes. He isn’t completely gone, he refused to kill me — but I don’t know how to bring him back yet so I ordered his quarantine to node 14… but now I don’t know what to do.”
“Diseased?” Xavior asked, tilting his head and furrowing his brow thoughtfully.
“Yes,” for once, Benea seemed unsure of herself, and her eyes flickered to the chairs. “Perhaps we can all have a seat and discuss it, darling?”
“Oh of course of course,” Xaviro replied, a touch embarrassed to have not been the perfect host, before he led them over to one of the more standard sets of tables and chairs set up in the rooftop space. He waved a hand and the chairs pulled themselves out from under the table for their guests.
“Can I get you anything to drink? Tea, juice, wine, or so on?” he asked Benea even as he went to collect his own half finished one and set it on the table.
Benea sat down and looked up at Xavior curiously. “What kind of juice do you have?” Looking past the god she spotted Monica still standing where Benea had released her. “Monica dear, please come sit with us.”
“If you like” Xavier added for her as he wandered over to what was basically a bar and found a bowl of fruits left up here for juice making purposes “As for juice there’s some apples, dates, a coconut, grapes, blue and raspberries an… eggplant for some reason… oh and there’s a lemon or two left as well. I’m having those and some dates myself.” he explained after going over the fruits, all while preparing a glass with some divinely chilled water with added ice, into which he was already squeezing one of the bluefruits as a base for the drink. Benea waved a hand as if saying ‘yes yes, that’ll do fine.’
Rather than seat herself at one of the chairs, Monica conjured another large cushion beside the table upon which she perched herself and continued enjoying her prior cup of juice while watching her two companions with a contemplative gaze. Benea gave the young goddess a pitying smile (in contrast to Xavior’s warm one) and tapped her hand before continuing.
“You see,” she started as she took a cup from Xavior (the other god finding a seat shortly after). “I believe Anak’thas may be infected with a disease that hides in the nodes.”
“Hides in the nodes?”
“Yes, remember when we all first met I mentioned the need for a strong will? I’m concerned that Anak’thas has been interacting with the nodes too freely and didn’t have a strong enough will, allowing the infection to seep into him. It’s contagious, too.” Benea started rambling, a worried look in her eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it corrupts the god, takes them away from peace or even contentment. They want more, they need more, and anything that gets in their way is forfeit. Interacting with such a diseased god will only shift your own emotions, potentially spiraling you down your own destruction. Everything was perfectly in line, it only took one crack to shift the balance and — damnit.”
Benea sat back in her chair, her look of paranoia turned to one of frustration. “Damn it all.” It was unusual for her to be so expressive, even Jermane stared on with bewilderment.
“I…” Xavior was equally shocked by this sudden breakdown “We can work through this, I’m sure” he tried, before asking “could you clarify how you know this is a… on the diseased nature of this issue. Who else has been infected by it, how does it transmit? Anything and everything you can tell us would help”
Benea held out a palm and from it five orbs spun out, each of them a bright cyan. Slowly they all began to spin in the same direction, orbiting over her palm in a perfect circle. “So long as they all go the same way, the circle will remain — but if one gets an inkling of something different…” One of the balls stopped, causing all the other balls to crash into it. “It disrupts the original design. It’s no longer orderly. One becoming diseased can interrupt a healthy individual. The Crucible will look for these cracks and the more we are exposed to these cracks, the more our own will form. If no one is without doubts, without worries, without greed and without regrets and the like by time the triggering event unfolds, then who is to say what our will shall manifest as. It is a disease, dear. It should be cured before the other gods begin to break the orderly way. We all have to move in the same direction.”
Xavior furrowed his brow, fingers tapping on the table as he considered this, not liking some of the vagueness found within it. “Then we should, perhaps, define exactly what the orderly way is with specifics rather than.. Inclination,” he eventually suggested, “Order requires rules. Laws. Structure. If we cement those in writing instead of them being a more nebulous idea, then we have a solid foundation from which it will be harder to be swayed by this… infectious idea that has caused Anak'thas to strife with you.”
“No,” Benea frowned, clearly frustrated. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Not even a dear or darling. She stood up and let out a puff of air. “I think I might be… stressed, Xavior. Perhaps I should retire for now.”
As she looked down at the god, a flake of snow landed on the tip of her nose. Slowly her eyes looked up, the sky empty of Tonnikala. Benea froze.
“Then how is it supposed too-” Xavior began to retort frustratedly, only to stop at the sight of Benea’s sudden panicked face. Looking up after her, he saw through the empty sky. Small brushes of snow were falling and above even where a cloud would be, in the distance, hovered a figure silhouette by the sun.
“Motion in a singular direction does not equate to necessity in this scenario…” Monica murmured to herself as she adjusted her position as well, adopting a serene stance as she gazed skyward and tilted her head with curiosity. “A familiar face in an unexpected place has graced us, it seems.” She said with a hint of bemusement in her quiet voice.
The god stood just as quickly when he saw what she was looking at, and then took off his sunglasses to try and see the figure more clearly, before shouting up to the distant figure “Who are you!”
The figure was too far away, too far away to be heard and too far wreathed in the shadow of the sun to be seen, but even still, Benea’s eyes were like saucers and the others could feel a sharp smile beaming down from the distance. Straining, a laugh could almost be heard in the wind and then all at once, the figure disappeared.
The snow stopped.
“I need to go lay down,” Benea murmured.
Xavior is kicking back and enjoying a nice drink while watching the sky fish while the world burns around him. Monica is there but she is having a dumb dumb moment sipping her dumb dumb juice while Xavior is relaxing. Anyway, Benea comes crashing in — having flashbanged the steward keeping the peace — and acts like she never left. She then is surprised to see Monica and squeezes the shit out of her. Xavior is concerned about his steward but then gets the shit squeezed out of him.
Free from her hugs, they all sit down and discuss the disease Anak’thas has contracted before Benea starts to have a stress breakdown which is then made worse when GARRAVAR shows up just to laugh at the three and then leave. Benea figures it is nap time.
3 / 9 mp, 1 used to give Benea access to node 12 Benea has 3 might, none used
An alpine breeze snaked over a short meadow, mixing the smell of flowers into the air. Olipha shivered and sank deeper into her wooden throne. Only her face was exposed as she pulled her thick cloak tighter around herself, eliciting a laugh from Garravar.
The man sat on the throne to her right, icy blue eyes studying the Queen. Unlike Olipha he wasn’t dressed for the nip of autumn but rather boasted a simple leather vest tied across his broad chest and matching dark trousers. Long silken hair as bright as a daffodil flowed freely from his scalp, occasionally obscuring his view of Olipha.
“Too cold for your liking?”
Olipha couldn’t help but smile back at the man, his grin as infectious as ever. “No, no, I like it! I think this is a great idea.”
“Well I hope so, I only carved every throne with my bare hands you know.” Garravar sat back in his seat. “Besides I thought maybe a little fresh air would help clear any jumbled thoughts we may be having here and there.”
“Oh?” Olipha sat up. “Are you having jumbled thoughts, dear?”
Garravar’s smile shivered for a second before he looked up at the sky. “Well, no. I just thought…”
Olipha shook her head. “It was a wonderful thought, darling. I’m sure all the others will absolutely love it.”
Grym sat against the node with a sliver of another prized melon dribbling chunks over himself, in Monica’s form. Cathartic. He grinned to himself. Whether he could taste the succulent nectar of the perfectly ripe wedge, he’d never directly admit. The view of his expanded realm had him pondering loose ends. Bulldozing the shut-in wizard was a given, but what of his realm and what of Peninal? Being alone had forced him to over-extend himself. It was nothing more than luck that the mortals had chosen to follow him. His blessing did not bind them, even if he had made it sound differently.
Grym was less worried about his success than he was about the longevity of his efforts. He had acted on the assumption that the South wasn’t unified in the same way that the North was, but there wasn’t any way for him to know that. What distracted him more than the rest was Peninal. Grym never took dad at his word from the very beginning and the missing head further ingrained this hypothesis. Whatever the reason, Peninal’s form retained unique value even after the “reset.” Without the head, Grym was left to wonder what he had instigated with the revival of Peninal’s flesh.
Even now Peninal lingered next to him while he pondered. His body was a strange mixture of accelerated decay due to a particular antlered god’s meddling, as well as a pus-ridden canvas for the cradle’s infection… but there was something more to it. Squinting with Monica’s (usually tear-saturated) eyes, he couldn’t help but feel like something was different about the body, as if somehow it felt colder to be around.
It was ridiculous to think, the body being dead and all, of course it’s cold, and yet it felt unusually cold. As if on cue, a stiff breeze snuck by, pushing that phantom chill from Peninal and right into Grym; he couldn’t enjoy his melon like this, this was too much. Grym pulled the rind away from his (Monica’s) face and reached out towards Peninal.
A flash of blue ice cut across Peninal’s chest before Gyrm could even tap the cadaver. His fingers retreated in surprise, but in that split second the crack of bones and the rending of flesh sounded, hidden behind a blue flash of light. A sharp pain tugged in Grym’s stomach and when his vision fuzzed back together, Peninal’s body was laying on the ground with a large burn covering half of its form, but more importantly, a large spear of ice was poking out from his gut.
A voice not unlike a winter chill sounded from behind the god as the spear slowly was pulled out of Grym’s body, squirming pain through every inch. “Don’t move just yet, it will hurt more if you do.”
If Grym had a brow to arch in response to the ghosty, yet intimidating, voice he would have. “I don’t really get hurt, but I suppose the sudden chill has hurt my ability to enjoy a certain summer fruit.”
Another tug and the spear was free. Uniquely, there was no indication in Grym’s stomach that it was ever there, except for the aforementioned chill.
“Good.” The voice answered
Grym turned toward a figure of immaculate stature [and good looks] towering over him. He cupped his jaw, clearly aware of a familiarity he should be shaken by. “You’re um, wait don’t tell me, I know this. Ga-... Gandalf, Gary, Gallahad, Ghirhadeli…” The trail of incorrect affixations continued on and on.
“Garravar,” he answered. “And you are Grym, defiler so it seems.” The blonde man turned from the other god and looked outward over the host of cradle infections and blessed mortals. He pinched a chin and slammed the butt of his spear into the ground to lean on. “Which node is this?” He didn’t turn around to look at the node behind him.
“23.” Grym answered thoughtlessly. “You killed Pops, didn’t you? From the old Crucible.” He hesitated. “From the old Crucible..” Grym repeated, shifting his gaze to directly meet Garavar’s. Gears were turning and Grym couldn’t quite fathom it all yet, but an immense sum of expectation welled up in the God’s mind; so much so that there were no words to adequately communicate it.
Garravar on the other hand seemed to regard Grym with a lazy look, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. “Peninal killed himself. Is the eighteenth node still accessible?”
Nothing could be more exciting right now. Everything that plagued or consumed space in Grym’s mind amounted to ash in comparison to the development before him. He was a child in the face of a real life dream. “Node 18 is mine, along with the map; for now. Why?” Gods, he wanted to know why. Every bone and bit of flesh yearned for what Garavar could provide to him. How could he have been so lucky?
Furrowing a brow like the answer was obvious all along, Garravar answered, “I want to consult my map.”
“Wait!” Grym pleaded more than asked. He composed himself enough to formulate an avenue of dialogue. “You must know why I am shocked. There are no words to explain your being, nor my surprise. You’re an obvious anomaly. All I can say is I do not abide by Peninal’s words or his dictation of Crucible law. Please enlighten me. Indulge my ignorance, Garavar.”
The winter god sucked in a breath before looking over Grym, as if acknowledging him for the first time. After a long pause he flicked an empty hand forward. “Why?”
“Because the Crucible is a farce and I wish to break it. Your being is proof it can be done, proof Pops was wrong.” Grym dissolves the illusion of his being for now, presenting his true self to Garavar as a means of transparency; even if his identity had already been deciphered. “I want to know.” Grym insisted.
Garravar shot half a laugh through his nose. “You contradict yourself. If it’s a farce, then what is there to even break. If you want to escape the cycle, however, then the first thing you have to understand is how real the Crucible is.”
“I knew you had a sense of humor,” Grym wagged a playful finger. “I had an idea, but I wasn’t quite sure. Pops lied… or he was wrong, or both. I want more than the struggle, I want it all.” Grym stated plainly, if not vaguely. “I’m eager and impatient, you see. You couldn’t have revived next to a more willing idiot.”
“Peninal was a failure, to put it plainly,” Garravar was already back to being stern. “But he wasn’t much of a liar. Every node must be captured before the triggering event, that much is true and I would like to see my map.”
"What will you do with the map? What do you gain by coming back like this?" Grym felt like he was being dismissed when there were so many questions. Garavar's revival was as fascinating as it was unpredictable and it had drawn doubt in Grym's mind that he hoped to quell. There isn’t a Crucible where he marched on in ignorance, letting the God with the answers walk away; it would drive him mad.
The man dropped the iron look of his visage and the corner of his mouth tugged into the smallest grin. If it was to put Grym at ease, it was doing a terrible job — the smile looked more menacing than inviting. “You want to know everything that I know, don’t you?”
He nodded in earnest, meeting Garavar’s oppressive gaze. From within the void between those two gaping sockets a lively flicker briefly gleamed. His response teetered between bubbling excitement and obsessive curiosity. “What fun is a game if I don’t know how to play it properly?”
“Find a god who already has claimed a node and kill them,” Garravar said as if he was talking of something simple. “After that, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“It’s settled then. You aren’t really asking what isn’t already an inevitable result of the Crucible as it stands. You’ll find your map buried in a gargantuan hive near node 18. I’d request you avoid destroying the hive if possible — that would set me back a few weeks.” Grym climbs aboard his steed and whistles to signal his vanguard to ready the offspring. It was time to move. “Where will I be able to find you afterward, G-man?”
Garravar turned away from Grym, his eyes scanning the north. Slowly, little shards of ice began to prick over his skin. “I’ll find you.”
With that, a stiff breeze hit the man, his body shimmering into a cloud of frozen dust.
“What a dangerous fellow.” The God thought aloud before taking to the air toward node 22.
Grym had taken a moment to rest and contemplate various loose threads that have been itching in the back of his mind for what has been his entire existence thus-far. In the midst of these thoughts Peninal’s reanimated corpse underwent a reaction which resulted in Garavar being reborn in the new Crucible. He and Grym had a dialogue, though Grym wasn’t able to learn very much from the elusive Garavar. Garavar asked to see his map and agreed to fill Grym in if he was able to kill another God in the Crucible. Grym conditionally agreed and allowed Garavar to set out toward the map while he sought after his own task.
A man was struck in horror. He stared up from the forest floor at a group of bandits. His wife gurgled next to him, her throat still spilling what blood remained in her throat, pushed forward by only the excess air pressure from her dead heart. His knuckles were bloody and dirty, his leg cut open and fear draining his mind. Already, the bandits took all his money. Already, they took all he cared about, and yet they still smiled at him with wicked grins.
Greed had shaped the men holding the swords, greed had turned them into monsters and this man was now paying the price. The forest around him didn’t care, tranquil as it was, with golden green leaves and shoots of sun threading through to a dainty Autumn road. Birds still chirped and squirrels still bickered and yet nothing lifted a finger to save his wife, save his children, to save him.
“But now, the fun is over,” teased the lead bandit, his sword swaying in front of the man’s face. “We’ve spent all we can spend, and you no longer amuse us. You know what happens next?”
Of course he didn’t. His mind was in a state of animalistic horror.
“Blood comes ne- What the hell!”
There was a flash and the forest shook. The birds stopped, the squirrels scattered, and a red stain of gore was piled behind the lead bandit, right where his men used to stand. On the heap stood another man, one neither the victim nor the killer recognized. He stood three heads taller than both of them, and wore the pelt of a wolf king casually over his shoulders, the skull acting as a helmet. An iron sword more fit to brace a wall than cut a man was hefted over his shoulder, muttered red. Below his neck he wore a bronze breastplate, the mark of a chamomile flower on the right shoulder and a calla lily on the left.
Two. Now two men laid on the forest floor, struck in horror. They stared up at the tower of a man.
“Who are-”
The sword came down, splitting the bandit’s head in half with a fruit-like squelch. The swordsman’s voice boomed.
“Run ahead to your god-king and let him know that Frederick the Sword of Benea has cleaned his roads and now approaches with words from the Northern Queendom of Nodes. I humbly request his audience.”
The man squeaked.
A strange swordsman has appeared in node 12. Notably, he has slaughtered many wolf kings and rid the streets of countless criminals in the direct east. He now is approaching the capital and has sent messengers ahead to give Xavior a heads up that he is coming, with friendly diplomatic intentions
What I think the CS is lacking is a way to sort of tie Rock into the grand plot of the story. How will Rock interact with the nodes and the other gods for example, and how do you plan on writing the god in it's current limited form?
It didn’t feel right, not at first. With war on the horizon it felt wrong to simply leave node 14, but it was just for now — and thankfully the usual entourage of paladins had felt the blessing of speed so the trip away and back would be sooner than anyone could muster and march an army or so Benea hoped.
The goddess kept her lips pursed as she cut through node 13, noting Dzallitsunya’s work, and then she kept her eyes down as she sped through node 7, not ready yet. She would return shortly and touch base with her beloved Dzallitsunya, but not now. Benea kept her head north as she thought of Xavior; he too would need her soon, if not to shake a fist at, but to embrace. Maelite’s chill lingered on Benea’s left cheek, but she cast Monica from her mind (though not her heart).
Node 6 was next, and it was glorious. Benea’s thoughts melted away when she saw it. The meadows were brimming with life and the paladins she left behind were marching in blocks, seeing the citizens happy and safe. Bronze from Xavior had reached this far north and barter was slowly being bought out by the use of the demon god’s coins. Houses of grey stock and thick thatch dotted the dirt roads of the node, laying claim to endless farms and happy faces.
A choke caught Benea’s throat when she saw the mountains in the distance, only to threaten wet eyes when she saw the castle that they had built around her node. Passing citizens and gregarious paladins excitingly explained that her white gazebo still stood in the central courtyard, waiting for her.
“Welcome home, my Queen.” Jermane muttered.
“I’m more home than you know, my sweet,” Benea answered without taking her eyes off the mountain range. “Let us meet with the commander.”
“So what exactly is a calla lily?” Paladin Raunbalden asked with an eye squinted with curiosity. The man was standing guard outside the massive floor to ceiling doors that enclosed the meeting room of the Pristine Castle. He was on guard with six others, two on his side of the door with him, the Janitor in the center and three on the opposite end. His question was targeted at one of the nine Elite Paladins that once followed Benea around node 14 and back, now only to sit on red cushions and wait for her to return (except Jermane of course).
Karlene blinked. “It’s a lily.”
“No it isn’t.” Renault shook his head. “Don’t you know?”
Karlene pushed, “It is a lily.”
“Nah,” Renault answered again. “Frederick?”
Frederick, a tall and broad man dressed in rigid armor curled a finger under his lip. “It isn’t, not really. It’s a false lily.”
Karlene made a face. “How can you even tell?”
“That’s why it’s called a calla lily,” Renault explained (without much substance). “Because it looks like a lily.”
“Then what the hell is the point in calling yourself the Cala Lily Goddess?” Karlene cursed. Before anyone could answer, the doors to the meeting room were swung open. The janitor himself had his hand outstretched as if he was about to be the one to do so — but instead Jermane stood in the center of the open doors, stoic eyes under the pink kiss on his forehead.
Benea, the Cala Lily Goddess, stood behind him, her hands folded at her waist and a soft smile on her lips. She stood like a lily, in the sense that her dress perfectly matched the flow of the white pedals, with the difference being a golden crown rung around her head.
“Recruiters far and wide will bring new bravery to the ranks,” The Queen said to no one in particular. “A special branch shall be garrisoned on the Road of Light, maintaining it and the safety of its travelers. Incumbent paladins will train hard in our lands and on the road, and in the same turn, they will train retainers. We have an order to upkeep.”
Everybody in the foyer bent forward with respect. “My Queen.”
Two things happened after that. Two very important things that should have taken longer, but a certain fever had overtaken Benea, anyone could see that. First, she took node 2. She took it easily. A Chameleon of chaos and destruction owned the tainted lands, but even so it was no match for Benea’s paladins. Jermane and Larissa held it in place while Frederick and Karlene gutted it. The node was quickly turned into a land of white winter, fit with fjords and valleys. Some paladins were sent there to train their endurance. A mountain range in the northwest connected the mountains of node 6 to the ocean.
Second, Benea made her way to the first node, Node 1. There, a pack of strange beasts challenged her, but she didn’t pay them any mind. By this point, she had more than her original surviving 9 paladins with her, and the enemy was held back while she stared at the node. She stared at it with a wrinkled brow, her hand hovering just out of reach from the black material. With a final breath, she pushed herself to touch it, and so a land littered with alpine mountains and peaks that broke the clouds was born. A small meadow pooled where the opening to node 6 was, but other than that, it was all alpine.
Hidden in the mass of mountains was the node, and around it Benea built fifteen chairs — each by hand. Her followers were confused to see her use her hands let alone work, but as she said, just this once she would. Tiny drops of black bled from her palms whenever she cut herself on the blades, and callousses would form and disappear as she sanded the pine wood. When she was finished, she cast everyone away from her so she could be alone. Not even Jermane stood beside her this time.
Alpine winds blew over her face and caught her hair as she stood by the chairs. Clouds danced below the peaks and edges of the mountain, and a small meadow had formed in the dew above. Even still, her dress didn’t soak up any of the moisture, and yet she stood defeated. Her usual smirk was gone and her brow had fallen.
She rubbed her thumb over the grain of the closest chair, feeling the carving of a lily underneath. Her other hand reached out to grab the chair that sat next to it. This one had two backs and a double seat, as if two adults were supposed to sit on it, side by side.
“I could really use you right now,” She muttered. “You, always brave and you, always fearful — one brazen, one cautious.” She let out a puff of mountain air. “I need you both.”
Benea let herself sink to her knees, cold grass bending under her dress as she laid her chin on the arm of the chair, almost like a lost puppy. She felt the hard wood under her jaw as she spoke to herself. “Come, darling, you haven’t much choice.”
The Calla lily Goddess closed her eyes, and slowly an aching heart mixed with the nostalgic wind of the mountains took her away. She spiraled into a dream…
A blood curdling scream threw Jermane backwards. He had been sitting on a log, but now he was staring up at the blue sky, his heart smacking the roof of his mouth. The scream sounded again and this time Jermane ripped his shields from their resting place and jumped to his feet. He knew that voice.
“My Queen?” He bellowed, his body turning into a blur as he sped to the ring of chairs where he left her. Cold air bit his eyes as he ran, but his blood was hot and his determination sent puffs of air through his nostrils.
Jermane burst through thickets of pine boughs and spilled onto the scene. Benea was on her side, propped by one hand. Her other held her heart, eyes wide with fear and lips trembling. Without thinking, Jermane dove to her side and held her upright. His eyes scanned her for any sign of injury, but there was none as she held the shaking Goddess.
“My Queen!?” Jermane called anxiously. Benea closed her eyes and sucked in a large shaking breath. Gently, she tapped Jermane’s hand and released herself from his grip. Keeping her eyes closed, she cleared her throat.
“I’m alright, dear.” She slowly rose to her feet, Jermane scrambling to his.
“I heard screaming?”
A soft smirk found Benea’s lips and she held her hands by her waist. “A silly dream is all, darling, don’t you worry too much about it. We have a Dusky Goddess to convene with I think, or shall we first confer with our horned brother?”
Jermane tilted his head.
“My Queen?”
“Our tasks, dear!” Benea snapped a finger. “We have a maddened god to stop and orderly cousins to keep word with, do we not?”
“Yes, my Queen!”
“Good!” Benea stretched a wide smile. “Then let’s get on with it, dear.”
Benea is acting sneaky and gets back to Node 6 without stopping to say hi to anyone (though promises to say hi on the way back) in Node 6 she sees how well the people and paladins had developed, going so far as to build a castle around her node. She reorganizes the paladins, creating a special branch to protect the road of light and its walkers, as well as sending recruits far and wide to build the ranks. Paladins are sent to train in Maelite and in Node 6 as well as to train conscripts and non paladin recruits for the coming war.
Benea then captures Node 2 and Node 1. Node 2 becomes a winter wonderland and Node 1 becomes a land of supreme Alpine conditions, barring a small bit of meadow where Node 6 opens to it. Around the node at node 1, Benea personally handcarves 15 wooden thrones, freaking everyone out. She then talks to one of them before falling asleep on it. She screams herself awake and Jermane runs to her, only to find her business as usual.
The townspeople stared at Benea with wide eyes. The sun was high in the sky, the summer wind was carrying heat through the grass and the insects were buzzing along the son of birds. An azure blue stretched behind fluffy clouds and not a single thing seemed out of place, except for Benea and what she had just done.
Benea was sitting on a simple wooden chair with a knotted and arced back and plump cushioned rear with knob pattern legs. She had one of her own legs crossed so that she could rest an elbow on her knee, but instead of doing such a thing she sat straight up, her elbows nearly as high as her shoulders while she sipped on a porcelain cup.
“Did you just?” An elderly woman droned in astonisment. Every single townsperson ringed the goddess and if not for the intervention of the paladins, they might have even swarmed her as she sat in the meadows, uncaring.
“Oh please speak plainly, sweetness.” Benea chastized over her steaming cup of tea. “If you mean to ask if I had solved your problem of invaders, then yes I have. Quite refeshing isn’t it?”
A pause.
“You know what?” Benea placed her tea on it’s plate and retired it to a spot right above her lap. Everyone leaned in. “Oh nevermind, it slipped my mind.”
A sharp nasally laught. “Silly me.”
Everyone leaned out.
“Oh wait!”
Leaned in.
“Oh no…”
“What manner of divine are you?” A rough young man suddenly asked, Benea’s chamomile eyes snapping to him so quick he fell on his ass. Benea flicked her wrist and the cup and plate she was holding burst into fine dust which then disolved in the breeze. Standing up, the chair under Benea unraveled itself until it was nothing.
Taking her time, Benea walked over to the man who was now staring up at her from his fallen position, mouth agape and a linger look of fear on his face. Benea curled the sweetest grin, but somehow it only deepend the fearful lines on the man’s visage. Clasping her hands by her waist and ensuring her shadow completely devoured the man, the goddess finally spoke. “I’m none other than Benea, a goddess who asked nothing of you and yet have already done so much. Isn’t it grand? Knowing I’m out there, working for you in the wake of all that has happened and will happen. I stand for true order, not whatever selfish dribble was spilled into the ears of your countrymen. I ask nothing of you.”
Sharp stares met Benea’s words and a trilling laugh came from the goddess once again. “Oh come now, even if you don’t agree with me, you can at least find a shrivel of joy in knowing you won’t be the chew toy of some strange man-eating weasels and their grizzly leader.”
A soft chorus of agreement, only to be interupted by a young boy just entering his fuzz years pushing to the fore. All eyes snapped on the boy as he ran towards Benea, only to stop at her feet and look up with anxiety. Benea looked back down at the boy, an unamused glare turning into a polite smile. “Oh?” Was all she offered.
“I have a confession.” The boy huffed.
Silence overtook the people and Benea raised a brow.
“Boy…” someone warned.
“A few of us… well not many of us.”
“Boy!” The warning came again.
“Go on, dear,” Benea’s stare blocked the sun itself.
“Set out to free Anak’thas. Not just us too, but some other villages…. I-”
The boy’s words were silenced when Benea put a hand on his shoulder. Everyone stood still, no one breathed. A sense of dread overcame the townspeople, but Benea’s grin did not faulter. Time grinded down to hour long seconds as Benea leaned down towards the boy and then all at once it happened.
Benea placed the smallest, gentlest kiss upon the boy’s forehead, a small mark of pinkish red stamping in the spot of the kiss. Straightening out, Benea spoke. “Thank you for your bravery, little one.” Everyone exhaled.
Meek, the boy wrung his hands. “You aren’t mad?”
“How could I be? You’ve all been fed so many lies and led to self-destruction. I cannot blame you for your mistakes. Though now I can only assume if the maddened god was released that he will soon come to take his node back and with it he will likely bring war. Do you know what that means, dear?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“It means a lot of people will be slaughtered in the cross-fire, of course,” Benea answered matter-of-factly. “Especially if I take a strong stand right here, but do you know what?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“I’m not a maddened god. I’ll instead prepare safe-passage west for those who want to flee the oncoming slaughter. The siblings of the orderly alliance reign in the west, and with them is peace. Take my kiss upon your heads, and heed the other villages. No one need be here when war hits. I bless you with the speed to do so and thank you for your honesty.”
The townspeople of the previously besieged town interact with Benea until one of them fesses up and tells her about the plot to free Anak’thas. Instead of becoming upset, Benea thanks them for their honesty and blesses them with super speed so they can warn the other towns of the oncoming war and promises of safety in the west. Some super speedies join Benea’s entourage, while the paladins present are also subjected to the group blessing, including Jermane.
3 might from the quiz
3 might spent on blessing a population with super speed. These people bear Benea’s kiss upon their foreheads and move with extreme agility and speed.
Anak’thas was not at Node 13. In his place was a burgeoning city, orderly designed around a circular but bare center where the Node stone itself was. A man who introduced himself as Perfek Tilus Tilum’Velik explained that the god, after taking the neighboring node, had returned to oversee the rise of Tilum’Velik but has since returned east to oversee the preparation for his expansion towards Node 14. He suggested that the goddess would follow the Silver Road eastwards to reach him. The Silver Road started stone-paved but soon became little more than a hardened, dirt road.
The lantern-god was not at the small city growing around the second node either. There Benea was informed he was further east still. So after ten long days since she reached the first city, Benea found Anak’thas.
He was standing in an open field bordering the next node to the east. The chaotic wasteland took the appearance of a smoke-choked hellscape. There was a storage pile of quarried and shaped stone next to the road, ready to be used. Laborers were already digging out the ground for the paved road. Tents were standing everywhere around to accommodate for the many mortals. At the center of the camp was Anak’thas, bend over table with on it a clay representation of an area that didn’t exist yet. He was discussing things with several mortals around him who were listening intently. All around the table more mortals were buzzing about like bees.
Benea took a step forward (and out from the circle of paladins that accompanied her), her eyes flickering away from the activity and towards Anak’thas. She clasped her hands by her waist. Her dress was still as blood red as the day she visited Dzallitsunya and her shawl shaded her gentle face from the sun above. A smile curled on her lips. “My my, you’ve been a busy little bee, haven’t you, dear?”
The Lantern-God looked up from the table, as did all the other mortals. “Benea!” Anak’thas said as his mote lit up a bit brighter. he then looked around. There was a dreadful absence of any amenities worth of a divine here. The whole place looked more like a labor camp. “You’ve caught me at a disadvantage.” He followed up with a small smile. “I’d have a feast prepared but out here… well the Veléx will probably not score a bounty worthy of your grace here.” He did a motion with his hand. Servants came from the tents carrying a clay jug and cups. “At least we could enjoy a drink. Wine, of my own making. The mortals can make it as well but it takes time and sadly, that is not a thing we’ve had so far.” The servants filled each cup with the purplish liquid, then offered both divines a cup. Anak’thas took his and sipped from it. It had a deliciously aged taste. “So what brings you here, dear sister?”
Taking the cup into her fingers, Benea gave the mortal an inquisitive look before turning back to Anak’thas. “Why, because I said I would!” She glittered a small smile. “I have made the preparations in the west and the foundation for an orderly alliance has been laid. Figuring it would be appreciated, I thought to myself that I would personally go and invite you to the first summit. Isn’t that wonderful, dear?”
“A most gracious gesture. It is well appreciated.” Anak’thas said, returning the smile before sipping from the cup. But then he swirled the wine in the cup a few times as he pondered upon the movement of the liquid. “I do hope this summit is not soon. There are more urgent matters to tend to before I could leave here. As you can see, we really are in the middle of something.” With his free hand, he motioned at the clay sculpted land on the table and then towards the stacks of chiseled stone further away.
Benea handed her cup to Jermane and stepped closer to Anak’thas. She pinched her chin as she approached and only stopped to reach out and touch Anak’thas’ shoulder, as if inviting him to lean in. The Lantern-God did not hide his frown but did as she bid him.
Bringing her voice to a low whisper, Benea sent her words to Anak’thas. “Unfortunately my dear, the summit is to be called soon. A lot has happened since we last saw each other and I absolutely need you there. This will define the crucible and the triggering event. We have to set the foundation for the future because without a blueprint, order will not prevail. I need you there, dear, you understand I know you do.”
Anak’thas let the words roil in his mind. For a solid minute he pondered the gravity of them. His eye-like-mote darted from Benea to the clay on the table and then back to Benea. Eventually he stood up straight again. He turned and headed for his tent. “Leave us.” He ordered the humans, and every single one obeyed with no objection. With one hand he opened the tent, while with the other he invited Benea in. “I think we should speak more plainly.”
“Oh my,” Benea gave Anak’thas a funny look before turning it into a smile. With little else she made her way through the tent-flap, Jermane trailing behind her. He was stopped by the Lantern-God though. “You are a faithful servant. I can see that. But you cannot be privy to the words spoken here.”
Jermane kept a neutral face but looked over at Benea who gave a polite curl of a smile. “That’s quite alright, Jermane. Please stand over the entrance with the others — keep Renault in line.”
The Shield of Benea gave a low bow before turning his back to the tent and placing his mighty shield on the ground with a shaking thud, propping it against his legs and waist. The other paladins quickly joined him in the duty of sentry.
“Shall we, dear?” Benea said to Anak’thas before dipping back into the tent.
Jermane? Renault? The use of names visibly confused Anak’thas for a moment. Though he didn’t push the matter further. He just gave a nod to Benea as he let the flap of the tent fall. The heavy wool would surely obscure all of the noise inside. “I cannot leave now.” Anak’thas said immediately.
Benea stood in the darkness of the tent with her arms crossed as she tapped her foot. She studied the glowing Anak’thas for a moment before shaking her head with the slightest grin. “Sweet Anak’thas, why don’t you tell me why so we can hash out a solution?”
“Because I have a realm to expand.” Anak’thas said in a matter-of-fact way. “In fact, I am literally about to sally forth to claim the next node. All the preparations by the mortals have been made. They know that in two days' time they must commence the continuation of the Silver Road. I cannot leave.”
“Oh darling,” Benea shook her head. “That’s easily enough to accommodate! Why don’t you go ahead and claim the node and then you can come back with me to view the summit. I don’t think I need to remind you how delicate the world is right now, don’t I dear? Everything is threatening to fall apart at a breeze’s tickle, but we can certainly expand the realm before dealing with it.”
Benea looked up at the ceiling of the tent and pushed a white smile through a tiny chuckle. “It will be interesting to see how someone else makes a road, I suppose.”
“All the more reason why we should act before we talk.” Noted Anak’thas. “What would we even discuss at this summit? The shape of the world? I have talked only once with my siblings but it’s clear that their views diverge. We should talk when we have the luxury of time and as long as chaos reigns in parts of this world, we don’t have that luxury.”
“Forgive me sweet Anak’thas, I was unaware you had already discarded the idea of an orderly alliance.” Benea looked around for a moment before spotting a rickety wooden chair. With a polite smile she sat on it with an impossibly straight posture and grinned up at Anak’thas. “I suppose I took your words at Peninal’s grave too closely to heart, or maybe you only recently fell off the idea.”
“You seem to misunderstand, dear sister.” Anak’thas said as he remained standing. “I am as dedicated to an orderly world as you are.” More even, he though. For he wasn’t about to waste his own time with useless summits that would consume weeks of valuable time. “If this summit is as important as you say it is I can send someone who will speak with my voice. Would that satisfy you?”
“Dear…” Benea pondered her words for a moment. “Think simply with me, just for a moment. Erase the thoughts and ideas and grandiose for just a second and think as simply as a ray of sun.” She cleared her throat and slowly continued. “I said orderly alliance, you said orderly world. I said I need you, you said I can use someone else. I said the world is falling apart, you said you need to build your realm. You once said you trusted in my judgment, but now I can’t find that same confidence in you. I don’t know what happened to you so quickly, Anak’thas, but I can’t help but feel a seed of sadness in my chest over it. This discussion at the summit was to help define where we should advance and where we should cooperate to avoid struggles, to avoid mismatched ideals and to avoid choking one another — to promote that same order I preached when we first met. Something in you doesn’t want to listen to me, and I don’t know why.”
“Have you taken a node yet, dear sister?”
“Of course, darling.”
“The first time I took one I felt such a rush. I fashioned myself a god before that moment. Even now I cannot believe my own hubris at that time! I wasn’t a god. Not until I touched a node. It gave me the power of raw creation. But then I wandered to the second node.” He looked down at the Laws of Anak’thas strapped to his arms. “I was taken by surprise by a monster of anarchy. It was… an impossible creation which would’ve slain me should I have given it the chance. That is what happened to me sister.”
“The alliance you wish to raise, it is important. Necessary even. But you must understand that the enemy we were supposed to fight is already here. He is infecting the land as we speak. I can send someone to the summit who will speak with my authority. Who will share our views of a prosperous pantheon. They will be an extension of me. But please, I beg of you now, please understand that I must head east. You said I once trusted your judgment. I still trust it. I only ask you to trust mine now too.”
Benea pursed her lips. "We will be deciding how the Crucible's will be divided among the Orderly Alliance as well as who's will shall be put forth during the Triggering Event. Are you comfortable delegating those decisions to a subordinate?"
Anak’thas was visibly displeased. Benea did seem to be in a suspicious rush to decide who would cause the Triggering Event. Even though they hadn’t claimed all the nodes yet. “I trust a subordinate to know which lands I already have, and which ones I want.” He said. “As for the Trigger Event, only I can give my word for that. So you will have to wait until I can come, which is after I have taken the next two nodes.”
"You're acting very defensive, dear," Benea looked up from her sitting position. "Is something bothering you?"
The Lantern-God looked at Benea for only a moment. Was something bothering him? Yes. The strange sense of urgency behind the summit. Meanwhile, actual manifestations of chaos were making their appearance around the very nodes that ruled the land.
“Yes.”
Without elaborating further he strode out of the tent. “Continue the preparations.” He loud proclaimed. The humans that buzzed around the camp very much continued their work. To them, of course, nothing had changed.
A simple melodic voice called behind him. "Shall I be taking that subordinate with me then, dear?"
Anak’thas did not turn around. “I will send him out when he is ready.”
A thoughtful hum played behind Anak’thas before Benea’s voice came again. “I’m terribly sorry about this, sweet Anak’thas, but it really is for your own good.”
Before Anak’thas could turn around or even answer, a great white flash overtook the scene. The world turned white and a screaming fuzz took over all sound and in moments all of Anak’thas’ senses turned to static, his body seizing and the world hiding behind white nothingness. The only thing that seemed to chime through the sudden void is Benea’s voice, still as warm as ever.
“I’ll help you, dear. Your beloved Benea will see you all fixed and in good order again.”
After that, nothing.
The next morning was a peaceful one. The sky was an azure blue with wisps of white dancing through on a spring breeze, and the scent of meadow flowers was in the air. Benea herself couldn’t help but smile up at the splendid weather, having to not even play a hand in its creation. With the peace she couldn’t help but conjure up a chair by the black node of region 14 and sit to enjoy it.
Her left hand was pressed against the node, now one of hers, and her right hand laid on a copper box that sat in her lap. She gave the box a small pat. “There there, dear. I’ll get you a proper home soon enough, then perhaps I can find some medicine for your ailment.”
As Benea spoke, three specks of light zipped from her lips: one green, one blue and one red. Each sped off in a different direction, a message on each.
My Dear Xavior,
The most awful of things have kept me from delivering upon my promise, but don’t fret — as soon as I can, I will be gifting you permissions in Node 6. To quickly recap, things didn't go as planned in Node 11, but I’m sure our sweet Monica can clue you in more than I can.
More urgently, my talks with Tsunya were splendid and she is as close to me as you, however my talks with Anak’thas were less than splendid. You see, an infection has seemed to have tainted his mind. What was once an upstanding fellow of order backing you and I up at the central node has become a bit of an addict of the power of the nodes. He isn’t in his right mind, dear, and so threatened the stability we are trying to build.
Naturally I detained him until I can see him cured of his sudden madness. In the meantime, I think it would be naturally prudent for us to assume that the madness might worsen and so I am taking direct control over node 14 until we can reassign it. Mirroring that, I think you should consider reinforcing Dzallitsunya as she occupies Node 13 or perhaps even think about securing the neutral node 18 just in case. Node 12 is a cradle of our civilization, but I know it is in good hands.
I’ll be in touch, sweet Xavior
My Dzallitsunya,
Tragedy has struck us early, dear. It would appear that Anak’thas has succumbed to a certain madness or even illness of the mind. He seems only interested in gathering power and nodes at the cost of our order, even. I could see the infection inside of him as he spoke, his words disguised to being in favor of order but his actions bringing chaos to the future. For the sake of peace, I have detained him and Node 14 until I can cure him of his madness.
I would ask that you do the same for Node 13 and coordinate with our beloved Xavior and Monica. Us four are the only things currently standing between either a world of chaos and war, and one of unity and order.
Stay strong, darling.
My sweet sister Monica,
I hope you let me find you this time and that you hear my words. A lot has happened and I would love to be the first to tell you it all. Unfortunately I am stuck in Node 14, having detained it and Anak’thas both (you see, he had gone mad) and am now working towards a cure for him.
I would request that you make your way to me as fast as possible. I am low on strength, I admit, having spent most of it detaining our fallen comrade. We have to deal with this before a war can break out.
I need you, dear.
Benea finds Anak’thas at the border between node 14 and 15. He is preparing the next expansion. She invites him to the god summit to be held. However Anak says he cannot go because he has more important things to tend to first. He offers a representative to go in his stead. The two go back and forth on the subject but Anak refuses to leave for the summit himself. Eventually, he leaves the tent in which the two were talking to continue the preparations of his expansion.
Benea believes something is wrong with Anak and decides to do something about that. The last thing Anak’thas knows is that his sense of the world vanished. Next we see Benea near Node 14. She claimed the Node for herself and sends out messages to Xavior, Dzallitsunya and Monica. Explaining her side of the story and that they should converge on Node 13 to make sure it remains stable (and perhaps even claim it).
Anak’thas Start: 5 Might Anak’thas End: 5 Might
Benea start: 5 might Benea spends 5 might on her signature artifact, the light of Benea. The light of Benea is a Queen’s staff laced with chamomile flowers over an ivory post. When activated it blooms a mighty white flash that can envelope a large area around Benea, rendering entire fields into a brilliant light. This light shuts off all the sensory intake of its victims and even paralyzes them for a duration. Only the will of the wielder can pierce through the white.
It had been a long while since Dzallitsunya had met any other god, she knew they were nearby, she had seen Monica’s group getting ready when she left and one more god at least had settled nearby. Between the preparations of exotic dresses for the marriage festival, her worries in shaping the local culture and her immediate focus on the lands north and the beast that resided there, she had truly slacked on keeping an eye on the borders of her land.
It was a bit shocking but not fully unexpected when she finally started to get weird reports from the tribe’s hunters and scouts, from foreign humans to a lone figure walking alone in the plains, it was not hard to guess that a god had entered her lands.
And it was best to meet them head on, bringing gifts of course, to try to bring forth a more amicable and stable relationship between the lands. Gemstones, including amber and river pearls, leather accessories and finely crafted dresses, obsidian from the mountains and one shawl made from Tsillo, a type of high in plascisty semi-transparent textile made from refined algae found only in the sulfuric ponds near the volcano. The goddess wanted to bring the local woodwork and ceramics but those would not fit neatly into a bundle without breaking.
Due to its roughness and sharp elevation differences, travel across Node 7 was predictable, the goddess easily guessed the foreign deity would be very close to the volcano by now, nearing the western passage from the highland to the swamps. It was there Dzallitsunya would gently intercept them.
At the heights of the night, the air started to whistle all around, past the jungles, up the rock outcrops and cliffsides, and then finally, landing by… what's her name’s side. Standing there, cape fluttering, a trail of dust she raised spreading further and further, the goddess had the terrible realization she had no idea what Benea’s name was, assuming it was her fault, she blushed, undoing any setup of a cool image her arrival might have given.
”Greetings… It is truly nice to see you again. Welcome to the Dusklands, I hope these lands have been gentle to you so far.” Dzallitsunya bowed slightly, spreading one side of the Shadow Petal with her right hand.
Looking up, Dzallitsunya realized she had miscounted or at least something had moved in between her and Benea. A shield made of pitch lacquered wood stood between her and the calla lily goddess. A gentle chuckle rose from behind it.
“Oh Jermane, that’s quite alright. This happens to be that friend of mine I was just talking about.”
The shield lowered to reveal a burly man with a face as gentle as broken stone. He cast his eyes away from Dzallitsunya respectfully. “Yes, my lady.”
Stepping out of the way, he revealed Benea. She stood with ten other retainers circled around her — happily in the center with a gentle smile and her hands clasped at her waist. Benea’s eyes perked as they met the dusk goddess’. “Oh my, it has been quite some time hasn’t it, dear?”
”Indeed. Is everyone else in Monica’s group doing well?” the pale goddess approached, squeezing the gift bundle tightly, the sound of metal and glass clinking together echoing around the quiet flat fields. ”Oh. There is a campsite nearby, perhaps it would be more suitable for your mortals? These lands do get a bit cold and damp at times…”
“A fine offer dearest Dzallitsunya,” Benea stepped forward and placed a hand on the goddess’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Perhaps we should all find a nice warm place to sit and chat? I’d love to fill you in on all the happenings and plans.”
The dusk goddess was somewhat startled by the forwardness and touching, not annoyed but just not used to it either, she stepped back sliding off the touch and nodded, pointing off to a place down the cliffs. ”I will guide you then.”
The journey was short, soon they were in a middle spot of the climb downward to the swamp, the copses of trees already overshadowing the rocky path, the camp was once a niche in the rocks, carved into a proper shelter. In the typical fashion of the dusklanders, everything was well organized, logs were set up in dry containers for use in the fire pit, nicely decorated clay jars were set from newest to oldest with markings of the moon phase and season in which the jar was sealed and the leather mats for sleeping were all stored in closed off crevice as to avoid spiders or worse sneaking in, in a mere minute, the dusk goddess and Benea’s entourage had set up a comfortable cliffside camp.
It was then, right by the fire, that the goddess opened her bundle of gifts and smiled. ”A little welcome gift for you. A sample of these land’s riches.” she announced.
“Oh how wonderful!” Benea picked the shawl up and studied it before eyeing the amber. A sudden frown. “How silly of me not to have brought you anything in return.”
Dzallitsunya smiled at the shawl being the first one picked, Croll had gone the distance to make that material possible, he would be happy to know it was marketable, though the goddess far preferred it as a local material to unify the culture. At Benea’s comment she shook her head. ”From my understanding, the lands nearby were settled later than mine, maybe I was lucky when traveling. Nevertheless, what I mean is that I understand, it took me a long time to set up these gifts, I am sure soon enough all of the nodes will be engaging in unique crafts and working the riches of the land as well.” she said with full unjustified optimism.
She looked over Benea’s humans and then back at the goddess. ”Since the humans are settled and safe now, I wanted to ask if you’d like to follow me to the node temple. I have… spent some effort on it, and I would love to get the opinion of another god.” she poked her index fingers together. ”With mortals it would take a long time, but two goddesses should be able to make it to there quite quickly.” she added, making clear that it was an invitation for her only, not her group.
Benea idled for a moment, a soft smile on her lips as she placed the shawl over her head, her dress changing to the same bright red as the material of the shawl. Satisfied, the goddess looked at Tsunya with consideration. Tilting her head she answered. “My dear, you wouldn’t be opposed to my gentle Jermane joining us?” The man was standing next to the sitting Benea, his face one of contemplation as Benea asked her question.
Dzallitsunya smiled back, twirling her silver coloured hair now, avoiding eye contact. ”Oh no no, absolutely not. I guess we could take the longer route. We will cross the main city of the node, I hope that is not an issue. Then, well, there will be a very… vertical path up. Though if anyone struggles with it, I can carry them up.”
“Oh good!” Benea stood up, excitement reflecting off her chamomile eyes. “Think of it darling, we get a better chance at soaking in what beauty you’ve created on our way. Wonderful idea.”
One would think the path across a swamp would be slower than the open flatlands, but being the core of the civilization, many options of travel soon showed themselves, from bridges and roads to finally fishing boats, the fisherman not having the best of times as he overextended himself trying to oar as fast as he could, fearing disappointing the two goddess, who were more busy appreciating the lush verdant views of the jungle and the swarms of fireflies that fluttered by.
Soon they were by the central village, it did not really have a name yet, there were many rivers and mountains to warrant those being named, but saying ‘the city’ or ‘the crossing’ or ‘the port’ could only possibly refer to this. The core of the village was a set of stone platforms, like artificial islands, surrounded by outer layers of houses and plazas in wooden silts and raised mounds. The air was filled with the smell of fish stewing on spices and the loud chatter of the crowd and the sound of stone hammers and chisels working on the buildings, both would stop as soon as the people started to notice Dzallitsunya arriving with complete strangers upon the dock.
”Would you like to stay a moment to rest? I have a friend here that makes a delicious fire tea.” the goddess proposed to the two as she led them from the boat to the main plaza. Clearly, some sort of event was being prepared in this area, it had been emptied out and a nearby building had a sizeable stock of wooden poles, thick colorful fabrics and sets of outfits with capes and shawls like the one gifted to Benea as well as jewelry made of volcanic glass and beads.
“Fire tea?” Benea cocked a brow. “That certainly sounds unique, I’d love to try some, but does your schedule allow it? I don’t know how urgently you wanted to show me the work you have done to your node.”
While Benea talked, Jermane was looking around — returning confused stares with an intense squint. He didn’t look mean, but he did look scary, if just naturally. This along with the nature of a new goddess appearing forced a wide berth to be given to the trio as they walked by.
Benea put her hands on her hips. “And I must admit, I have so much to tell you as well.”
The goddess shook her head. ”It is fine. If we tried to take the tea to the temple it would get cold and stale before we arrived.” she placed her hands behind her back and hummed, advancing towards the retreating crowd, right to the house which had the stock of dresses. ”Kadja. Hello. I brought a visit if you don’t mind.”
Soon an aged woman, streaks of gray on her black hair, appeared, holding a confused glance at the trio within her doorstep. “O… oh. Hello my goddess. I take… these two are not here to receive dresses for the marriage festival.” she laughed to herself. “Though it would be quite an experience to make a fancy dress for the lad.”
Missing the joke, Dzallitsunya shook her head. ”Oh no no, she is a god like me and he is her guardian.” she answered sincerely causing the seamstress to roll her eyes, the goddess then seized her hand and held it between her own. ”I know it might be a bit rude, but I am in need of a place to lounge and converse with my friend. Could I use the central yard of your home? A… Also, if possible, could you make us some fire tea? Oh… and maybe those coconut chips?”
The woman laughed at the goddess, using her free hand to pat her on the head. “Sure thing your holiness, seems like someone is trying to make a good first impression, I am glad you think my little table and chairs are up to the standards of divine rears.”
As the human left, the goddess turned to Benea. ”Well, come on then! The central garden is fully walled all around, surrounded by the shop and home. We can have some privacy on it to talk as we please..” Dzallitsunya led the path forward, sitting on the fur padded wooden chair and setting aside two more around the stone table.
Benea kept a polite smile as she walked through Kadja’s home and out to the central gardens. There she took in the quant flora that hugged the perimeter of the small but cozy space before retiring into one of the fur-lined seats. She sat upright, almost like a statue.
“Why don’t you take a seat as well, Jermane?” Benea said to the still standing man. He tilted his head forward before settling into one of the chairs — knees popping. Benea gave a small shift as if settling deeper in the chair, yet kept her regal posture. “What a lovely little home this is. The people of your city surely have done well for themselves, darling. Surely due to your guidance.” Benea paused, but not long enough for anyone to get a word in. “See, I knew the moment I saw you in the valley of 18 that you were smart and of level head. It would seem I was right.”
The goddess smiled at the compliment but then let out a somewhat tired sigh. ”Thank you. Humans… are beautiful, but erratic. I cannot lie, I feel lethargic compared to them, by the time I form one idea, they move on to a thousand others, darting about like the dragonflies over the pond. So far I have had success in ignoring the minute movements of each dragonfly, and focusing on the flow of the swarm, guiding them with greater and gentler movements, not commanding each one. Though… Humans are more passionate than insects, therefore, also more foolish. So far the movements are ~smooth, they follow patterns, but when things go awry… I fear the chaos that could come.” the goddess straight up confessed to Benea, before silencing herself as Kadja brought forth three bowls full of steaming tea before once again leaving.
Ginger and other roots along with herbs that made for a spicy mixture, that was the recipe of fire tea, it felt like it burned the mouth and brought a relaxing warmness and numbness to the body. ”Ah. How nice, Kadja never fails this recipe... I am sorry. I feel like I have been talking so much. It is just that… with no other gods around, these thoughts had nowhere to go but to echo around in mind.” she cleared her throat. ”So. How have things gone for your group? I felt the nodes being tamed but never had the time to check on them myself.”
“Oh you know…” Benea droned before taking a sip of her tea. At first she made a face, as if completely taken off guard by the taste, but then offered a polite smile above her cup. “To be more frank, darling, things have been rather wonky on my end as well but I hope to tighten it all up soon. To sort of explain what I mean…” Benea put her cup down on the table and leaned forward ever so slightly. “Xavior successfully took node 12 and turned it into a lush paradise as planned, and I took node 6 to do the same. We’ve agreed to share our nodes as a foundation for a growing alliance of order and commonwealth and well being. Monica agreed to this as well and for her part, she did it when she took node 11…”
Benea’s face turned into a shallow frown, as if she was being physically hurt. “However, I’m troubled by what I saw in node 11. Monica, you see, created a land that quite frankly would kill your average human. It puts me in doubt about her will and what might be lurking underneath — for as you know the nodes react to your truest will, even against your wishes at times. I am not defaming my sweet Monica, but I wonder if her will is strong enough to continue the use of the nodes.” Shaking her head and hiding her mouth behind another sip of tea, Benea nodded for Dzallitsunya to speak. Jermane himself softly slurped at his tea while his eyes flickering around the garden, harsh sips filling the silence.
The dusk goddess nodded, she rubbed her chin as Benea’s speech turned more serious and found herself with one key question. ”What was her side of the incident? Did she comment on it?” and then, in a bit more of a coy tone, she continued. ”And, uhm, if it's not prying too much, what is the nature of the trouble in node 11?”
Benea let loose a resigned sigh and leaned back in her chair (taking her tea along with her). Pulling one arm over her stomach to rest and crossing her legs, she contemplated her words over another sip of tea. Finally she said, "well that's the worst part of all, dear. You see I was exhausted from battle and weathering the chaos of instability when I asked her to go ahead and capture the node (in order to save the lives of the people entrusting us). She did that part quite well but actually ran straight into the node and injured herself. The realm was freezing cold and quickly sapping the people of life, so first I spent my remaining strength constructing a way to keep them alive and by time I found enough power to send guiding lights to find our Monica, she sent them back to me through will, not wanting to be found. So I have little on her side of things, and it's absolutely chewing me up inside." Another sip. "Excuse me, of course."
Dzallitsunya readjusted herself against the primitive chair. ”Such… an unusual realm. When I created this node, I felt my power growing so much, but I also felt my limits very well, it was easier to slide with what the land offered than to make something radically different.. It is not that simple, I assume at least, to create a land of such strong magical capabilities. So at minimum, this does say something about Monica’s abilities.” there was no more tea to sip for the dusk goddess, so she just readjusted herself again. ”Which I imagine is relevant when, uhm, her willpower is put in question, right? Now, we can only speculate, but in my opinion, it's best if such a power has something to focus on, rather than being cut too loose and left aimless.”
She sighed and tilted her head. ”On that topic, I would be more than glad to help as I can, if a land path is necessary between your node and Xavior’s I can offer a route across my land, though I would need some time to survey it, as it would need to cross more than a few mountain chains.”
“Well hopefully the road I put in 11 will hold, it may need some maintenance but at the very least I appreciate and accept your offer, sweet Tsunya.” Benea held her empty tea cup out and Jermane took it from her. The goddess shifted in her seat, now accounting for both arms as she sank into the furs. “Either way, the time has come to talk of other things. You see, we have an order to build still, do we not? Look how well we are working together, it’s marvelous. I would adore it if we could use your region to house a meeting of gods all willing to come together formally. I wager I already have Monica and Xavior pinned and ready, now I just need to reach out to Anak’thas and we will have a good team of founding members.” Benea smiled at Dzallitsunya, her eyes crinkling with bliss from the grin. “Isn’t that just delightful, dear?”
”Oh!” the goddess gasped, then cleared her throat to clean the sudden glee in her face. ”Well. I do have a little spot in my node area, as I said, a temple. By pure coincidence I had prepared a room for meetings in it. Why don’t we go see it, and you can tell if it will fit your plans? I do approve of more integration and cooperation between gods so if I could help, I would be glad to.” “You see?” Benea sat upright — if not leaning slightly forward so her gaze bled right into Dzallitsunya’s — “This is exactly why I thought to go to you, darling.”
With the help of the shadow petal, the path up the volcano was as easy to the goddess as a game of hopscotch, even when she was carrying a man larger than her. ”Here we are.” Dzallitsunya said, as she set Jermane down by the entrance of the lunar palace, a bronze blush on his face. ”Come, I will show the room to you.” she added, leading the path forward for the two visitors, into the lava lit halls, up to the gardens.
“Oh please do,” Benea answered as she trailed behind Dzallitsunya. Jermane in turn followed the dragging hem of Benea’s dress, his shield held close to his body.
The meeting hall was up a spiral staircase in the central node room, its glass walls and marble furniture was lit by the illusory image of the crucible as if seen high from the sky, most nodes visible, all made to look pleasant, even the ever-dark of Monica’s node. ”So. Will this suit you… my friend?” the dusk goddess questioned, smiling to her fellow deity, stuttering a bit as she still did not know what her name was even after all of this traveling together.
Benea stepped forward with her hands behind her back as she watched the illusionary view of the crucible, a gentle smile on her face. A moment of contemplation went by before Benea gave the illusion a curt nod and turned to Dzallitsunya. “I expected nothing less, Dzallitsunya. We will mark the start of the orderly alliance here.”
Dzallitsunya bowed, stretching her cape. ”Let’s guarantee a gentle future for the crucible.” she summoned forth a sheet of silver, placing it at the middle of the table. ”If you don’t mind, I would like to mark this occasion by having us sign our names down upon this.” she smirked.
Benea gave Dzallitsunya a knowing glance before curling a grin. Tapping her finger to the sheet, Benea’s name was carved into the metal.
Benea arrives at node 7 with her eleven paladins. Sunya is like oh shit, friends, and gives Benea some gifts like jewels and a shawl made out of algae. Benea is like oh shit, gifts. Anyway, the two decide to find a nice place for the paladins to rest while Benea, Jermane and Sunya head off to the capital to talk about stuff. They discuss Monica’s node as well as the fate of Monica before they discuss founding the orderly alliance. Sunya agrees to host the alliance in node 7 and so invitations should soon be heading out to Xavior and Monica, while Benea personally goes to invite Anak’thas
I'm not really a bird.
[center]-0-
Where did I play,
A land of twisted branches,
A kingdom of clay,
A swamp of memories,
A never-ending day,
Where did I run,
Across the dawn,
Through the sun,
Across the sky,
Through laughs and fun,
Where did I walk,
Pristine grass green,
White cliffs of chalk,
Pools of sky so blue,
Orchard stones that talk,
Where did I sit,
By the gates of silver,
Near endless pit,
By forever horizon,
You may remember it.[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">I'm not really a bird.<br><br><div class="bb-center">-0-<br><br>Where did I play,<br>A land of twisted branches,<br>A kingdom of clay,<br>A swamp of memories,<br>A never-ending day,<br><br>Where did I run,<br>Across the dawn,<br>Through the sun,<br>Across the sky,<br>Through laughs and fun,<br><br>Where did I walk,<br>Pristine grass green,<br>White cliffs of chalk,<br>Pools of sky so blue,<br>Orchard stones that talk,<br><br>Where did I sit,<br>By the gates of silver,<br>Near endless pit,<br>By forever horizon,<br>You may remember it.</div></div>
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