Diana carefully stepped through the verdant caves of the Serene Islands. Several other Eidolon carefully followed behind her. All of the inhabitants would quickly learn how dangerous the underground is, however they were called forward by a familiar supernatural force. Diana thought it might had been her imagination, but it seemed like the common beast were given her distance and the moss and vines held tightly to the loose ground to keep it stable.
Diana's group, along with several others guided by the same calling, converged into a cavernous pocket of the cave. The blue glow moss was especially prevalent here, making it almost as bright as day. Their eyes were drawn to a mound of mud, moss and various plant growth. It took a moment, but they realized it as a humanoid figure and then recognized him as their savior.
His word passed through the air without sound, "I have called you here because I need your aid. I would require a degree of loyalty from you which I would not ask for lightly. I can not promise much in return except for hardship and toil. I might even become dangerous, but I believe your work will be important and help better the Serene Island and the rest of Galbar. If you accept this burden." He gestured with his hand towards the wall in front of him. Looking closer, it appeared as though many tiny orbs had been imprinted into it. "Take one of the seeds. You shall know what you need to do with it."
Diana was the first to walk to the wall. She did not know if she was permitted to take the first one out of reverence, or if all the others were simply afraid to do so first. Taking it in her hand, it was like a solid black and perfectly smooth pit. She could have almost mistake it for a stone until she touched it and felt life radiating from it. As the god had said, she had known what she must do, even if she could not fully explain how to do it. She interwove her life with the seed. She looked around, and saw that all of the others that had followed the voice had followed her lead.
The figure did not turn around, "And so you have chosen to follow me. I welcome you to the Vernal Order. As such, I grant your reprieve from the commandments I have originally gave you, for you shall have your own. You shall be loyal to me, the god known as Arvum, holding only life itself as more sacred. As Diana is the leader of the Eidolon upon the island, she and her successors shall be your leader as well. Cultivate and protect the island, from its tiniest ant to the greatest of its cities. Understand the island caverns are dangerous, but that they are now yours to tame and that your duties extend below the surface until you reach the fungal guardian of the deepest depths. Your life is bound to those seeds. Nurture them in life, and in death, plant the seed near this proscribed place. Only those within this collective and those being initiated into it may know of its existence, nor may you tell a soul of your involvement or its nature should its existence be revealed."
There was a pause as a tension developed into the room. Even though the figure did not turn around, everyone could feel his intention turn towards Diana. He responded to her unvoiced concern, "Is there a problem with my commandment?"
Diana closed her eyes, but she could still feel his notice, "I don't it is just." She tried to evade the question, but his attention lingered. "It is just I don't understand it."
The voice replied, "Do not fear not understanding. There are forces aligned against me, and they may imperil you. I believe secrecy was the best measure of security I could provide and the most conductive to your work. My divinity shall hide you from them and make your appear ordinary and beneath their notice, however it is not infallible and can not prevent you from being revealed by mundane methods."
The tension started to fade, however some of it lingered as dread. Arvum continued his commandments, "Is there any other questions."
Responding to the silence, "Then I shall announce your current duties. Organize the Eidolon of the island so that they may prosper and that you may preform your duties unhindered. Find safe passage to the depths where the fungal guardian rests and appease it. Learn how to produce in yourself a surplus of vital energy and how best to use it to heal and mend."
---
A group of Eidolon huddled together, weapons in hand. They were not some singular band or members of the same collective, but people who had people taken from them by the intruders. At first, they had great success as they killed the immature or weak ones which had been pushed further towards the fringes. However, their enemies were as cunning as they were confident.
Recognizing the threat, they had joined together and had cut off their escape to more populous lands where they might find aid. Pushed deep within the depths of Duskwall, their rations began to dwindle away and they knew they encircled by their foe. Unbeknownst to them, their end was only delayed by bickering over who had the greatest right to what they had prematurely judged as their feast.
The group was determined to fight to the end, to rid the lands of as many of them as they could before the end. And as the hordes descended upon them, they fought. Through the battle, a voice called out to the Eidolons, "Noble defenders of the plains, you have proven yourself worthy of my aid if you merely call upon it."
Believing it was a blessing from the ancestors, they embraced the blessing. Golden energy radiated from the ground beneath each guardian's step. The Eidolon found strength from the light, while it seemed to weaken and tire the intruders. The spears of the group transformed into scythes, which they used with uncanny ability. Some mechanism within the weapons allowed them to quickly adjust the blades orientation so that once again resembled spears, however their metal edges made them far more effective than their previous stone implements.
With the assistance of the sacred, they were able to destroy the profane intruders. The voice called to them once again, "I ask that you continue to protect Eidolon." And the group had all agreed.
The power beneath them gathered to a point, and that point moved some distance away. The ground around it began to shift and turn and change. Their eyes were not fast enough to true see what happened, but suddenly a great tower of harden red clay formed. They were hesitant to approach it, but felt permission to do. Upon growing closer, at the base of the structure was a trough filled with barley grain. The voice continued, "I welcome you to the Autumnal Order. This tower is my gift, it shall provide sustenance so that you might establish yourself in these wilds. As I said, I ask that your protect the plains and its rightful inhabitants. However, I must admit that there is must work to be done. I ask that you create a fortification to defend this location and the silo, that you create a safe passageway through the dark wilds known as Duskwall, and that you learn how to produce in yourself a surplus of vital energy and how best to use it to strength yourself."
Arvum calls various Eidolon of the Serene Island into the caverns to induct them into the secretive Vernal Order. They are granted reprieve from the rules that apply to other Eidolons within the Island, but in turn granted their own rules. One of the rules is that they can expose any information about the order, or even that such order exists. It is explained that this done to protect them, and that his power protects them from supernatural detection but not mundane gossip. They are also all given seeds that are to empowered over the course of their life and then planted in the caverns after their death. They are then given tasks.
When then head to Duskwall, Eidolon Plains. A group of Eidolons joined together to fight off the intruders, however in response the intruders joined together and push them deeper and deeper into Duskwall in order to eat them. However, before this could happen, Arvum intervenes and grants them power, including turning their spears into fancy scythes with blades that can be adjusted into a spear configuration. They kill the intruders and Arvum creates a large silo that is filled with grain. He recruits the group into the Autumnal Order and then gives them tasks.
Starting: 8 Ending: 2
-3: Created the Vernal Order of the Serene Island: A secretive group lead by the leader of the eidolons of the island. Divine power shields from supernatural detection obscuring their association with order. Each member has a seed as a sign of membership that they bind their lifeforce to nurture through out their life and when they die, it is planted in the cavernous underground.
-3 Created the Autumnal Order of the Eidolon Plain: A group of Eidolon warriors charged with protecting the plains and its rightful inhabitants. They wield scythes with mechanisms that permit them to adjust the angle of the blade, including extending it out like it is a spear.
0: Created the Grand Silo: It is a grain silo that replenishes itself over time, producing enough food to sustain a moderate amount of people.
Arvum had walked through the sky, carefully observing the lands belows. Burdensome duty weighed heavily upon his shoulders. In the south, parasitic blight festered. For the time being, a wall of deadly salt barred their progress. Perhaps there was a lesson in its misleading beauty. He did not venture too close to the newest continent; divine aura emanated strongly from it. It was a mystery to him, and a concerning one. However, there were more pressing worries such as the monsters that caused even the Monarch paused. Perhaps there was only one, but recent events had eroded his optimism.
Other matters occupied his mind, such as the Stygian Tlacan Sea below, but it seemed that time was starting to betray him. It is in his nature to be patient, to wait for things to blossom at their appointed times. While he had many concerns, there was one he held above all the others. His journey around the world was in service to this goal. He had to be better informed of the world. He had to compare his designs to the others to ensure that they were sufficient. And he needed perspective.
He had returned to the Eidolon Plains, his destination was further south; however he felt divine presence strongly ingrained within his lands. He went over to investigate, finding a garden of another shardbearer’s design. Upon landing on the ground, he donned a disguise of an Eidolon to prevent his form from distressing any mortals that might happen to be nearby.
Now on the ground, Arvum could plainly see the world around him. Among the silent trees of the garden, the simple flowers, and swaying grass, was a flood of mortals. Humans walked every which way, fiddling with sticks and inspecting rocks. It was a scene of infancy as the young race discovered their surroundings — it was only closer to the nexus of the gardens that the theme changed.
With little mind paid to him, being a drop in a bucket of new stimulation, Arvum found the center of the garden without molestation. There he found simple stick homes built on some unseen perimeter, woven and mudded into solid frames — but beyond that he saw rows and rows of humans.
Their faces were red with exercise, arms and legs swinging at a myriad of smoky tendrils — the strange appendages swinging back. The small army was clearly practicing some sort of martial skill, using the wisps as their enemy. Each tendril all seemed to flow in the same direction, ultimately leading to the source — the back of a man hunched over a large sword, no interest on his face as he quietly and repeatedly scraped a glossy black stone across the blade’s edge.
His voice emanated from him without his lips moving, ”The weather is lovely today is it not?”
The scraping stopped for a moment, as if the man had to think about it. Concluding, he started scraping the stone across the edge once again. “I like it; there will be a storm tonight.” He paused again. “I like the feeling right before a storm.”
”Weather can be a fickle thing.” Arvum replied. He gestured around, ”This is a pleasant garden.”
“And it will be for a while yet,” Apostate answered. “You’re welcome to it as you please. This close to the statue—” He nudged a shoulder in the direction of the looming black monument “ —the ground doesn’t move and the plants refuse to change, but everything beyond the reach of the statue is usual.”
Arvum casually shifted his gaze to one of the trainees, who began to feel winded as if Arvum’s attention was a boulder he was forced to carry upon his shoulders, ”Mortals of this shared design seem to be rather common. I wonder what journey brought them here.”
“They were brought here by Homura.” Apostate looked up from Warbreaker, his one visible eye squinting at Arvum. He wiggled the fingers of the hand holding the black stone and it poofed into a puff of smoke. Now resting his elbow on the flat of the blade, he leaned towards Arvum. “And I suspect in time the ones you see here will find themselves elsewhere about the plains.”
”Mortalkind roams about. I have seen that some even seek out danger. It can be one of their many admirable traits.” he said, his gaze still cast upon a hapless human.
“Oh I know.” Apostate’s words were accompanied by a low groan, deep from his chest. The hapless human started training faster and harder, a strong determination appearing in their eyes and gasps of smoke puffing out with each exhale. Arvum’s grip was waning.
And he turned his gaze as doing was completely inconsequential, facing the shardbearer in front of them. ”I presume this Homura is their noble progenitor. I must admit that I have not had many opportunities to meet with my fellow shard-bearers.”
“If that’s what you want to call her.” Apostate closed his eye. “My only advice is to think twice before offering any of them fruit.”
Arvum examined another trainee, however his inspection was unintrusive. His eyes glanced around. ”I hope you do not mind, but I like to better understand these exercises they are performing.”. He said, walking over to one of the tendrils that originated from Apostate’s back.
“These one’s wanted to know how to defend themselves, so I obliged. Unfortunately, they aren’t anywhere near strong enough to even pretend to be a sparring partner of mine — but this will do.” Apostate didn’t turn to look, his gaze turning back to his blade.
Arvum stood in the tendrils place, his arms crossed behind his back. He intentionally held back his godly presence, ”Did they encounter the life-drinkers? I did not believe that their numbers were so great this far north.” The human in front of Arvum gave a confused look before frowning.
“What’s up?” The human, a young woman, asked, albeit with frustration.
“No, I don’t think they’ve encountered anything outside of the garden.” Apostate’s answer came slowly — interrupting the woman — as if thought had to be put into it. “Life-drinkers?”
Arvum first responded to the woman, ”Please. Pay us no mind and continue training.” before responding to the other god, ”I must confess that I am no expert. They are a mortal design that feeds upon other mortals. I have noticed several variations, the bat-like ones seem to pose the greatest threat to those who cross the world belt with their flight and enhanced strength. The sun otherwise seems to suppress their movements.”
Before Apostate could respond, the woman poked a finger in the air. “Not to sound rude, but you’re sorta in my way. This is my fight zone.” She made a motion with her hands as to outline her exercising area, making sure to note that Arvum was well inside of it. “Get it?”
Arvum replied, ”I am sorry. Was I mistaken in that this exercise involves hitting another?”
“You want me to hit you?” The woman arched a brow — the smoky tendril waiting over the conversation.
”Correct. I apologize if I am interposing, however I wish to better understand this exercise.” he replied.
Gulping, likely from sudden embarrassment, the woman steadied herself and fell into a fighting stance. With a warrior’s shout, she punched forward with her fist, smacking Arvum in the belly. It did not feel like striking flesh, or any material at all. It felt as if her arm simply stopped at a point, and refused to continue forward. She stared down at her arm, mouth agape.
“Did you feel it?” She asked, clearly self conscious.
”I did.” he said, answering with a technical truth. He turned back to the other god, ”These life-drinkers, along with other concerns, have made me more concerned about the safety of my progeny. It is reassuring to see others have similar concerns.”
“Another god systematically terminated an entire population of mortals one by one using machines designed to torture and kill,” Apostate said, his eyes on his blade. “I was the only one to show up in response, and I only succeeded to save a single mortal from him.”
With a loud wind, the tendrils flooded back into Apostate, leaving the humans confused while the god of defiance stood up and turned to Arvum. “I didn’t create any mortals, and here I am defending them. It was irresponsible for any of the gods to create life at this point in time, but what’s done is done, and many have been tortured and exterminated for it.”
Arvum's true voice resonated from within him, its tone changed in an ethereal manner, ”I am saddened to be informed of this tragedy, however I do understand the value of a single life. I must admit I can not agree with your conclusion however. If all of the noble shards of the Monarch refused to act until we could create perfection then who would have acted at all? .
“Do you know what an ant is?” Apostate crossed his arms.
”Yes. I rather like ants. So small, yet still so able to shape the world.” he replied.
“Me too.” Apostate grinned before remembering something that made him frown again. “Imagine two rams fighting and in the scuffle one gores the other — which makes sense, they were fighting for something they felt important. It happens, it was going to happen… but the anthill they stamped unnoticed also suffered, more so than a single ram — a whole colony.”
Apostate paused.
“I’m not saying the gods needed to wait until perfection. In my humble opinion, I’m saying there is a battle that is going to be had, things will shift and a lot will be destroyed — and how much better for the ant colony to build their hill after the fight rather than under it. The gods don’t agree on much, and we are all rams of our own design.”
”Rams are much larger than ants, and can easily stomp a single one. However, destroying the colony is not as easy as knocking over a mound of dirt. Ants can live deep within Galbar and inherit its protections. The gods are not akin to the rams, they are akin to the storms whose fury can reach within their tunnels and overwhelm them. Precautions will need to be taken to prepare for the flood.” Arvum answered.
Apostate pointed a finger at Arvum. “You remind me of a certain red-head I know: literal and criticizing. I think you get my point.” He furrowed a brow and made a face at nothing in particular. “But with the track record of our kin, I can only hope you get my point.”
Arvum gave a deliberate pause, ”Interesting. That is how you interpret my speech.” he said, ”I am sorry to divert to an unrelated topic, however have you had a chance to speak to the Lord of Lords. I apologize that my mind has been thrown elsewhere, but this thought weighs heavily upon my mind.”
“No.” Apostate said simply. “I’ve been… um… busy.”
Arvum replied, ”I have met with the Lord of Lords, however unfortunately it seems as though I might find myself busy soon.”
“I feel like you want to tell me something.” Apostate leaned on Warbreaker, the blade poking into the ground.
”No nothing important. Just a stray thought. he said. ”Well, now considering it I did hear something peculiar enough to mention from the Lord of the Moon about how the Monarch required another lord’s assistance in slaying a monster.
“What do you mean?” Apostate looked down at his blade.
”I apologize that I am not well-informed. I merely know that the Lord of all Lords killed a monster of the sea with the assistance of another shardbearer who I have not had the pleasure to have met yet. The Monarch did not mention it when I visited him. I apologize for presuming his motives, but perhaps he had thought that I was already aware.” Arvum replied.
“I don’t get it, what?” Apostate gave the god a quizzical look. “The monarch killed a fish and this troubles you?”
Arvum’s guise didn’t seem to change, however his true glare focused on Apostate, ”I am obviously concerned. If the Monarch was concerned enough to leave his palace while still recovering from his injury to personally see to such a matter, should I not be?”
"What are you implying?" Apostate pushed, but his words were cut off. While most of the human rabble had wandered off to do other things, the woman was still present — her fists bouncing off Arvum harmlessly and small puffs of smoke caught her every exhale.
Arvum replied, ”I am simply expressing my concern. If you believe it is a trivial matter, perhaps it is.”
"Arvum." Apostate frowned. "I'm an idiot, you have to speak plainly with me. Are we gossiping or do you have a plan to share with me? Do you intend to go into a fight, do you need my aid — or is it me you wish to fight?"
”I had thought that we were simply having a friendly chat. It is not often I speak with other shardbearers, though perhaps that needs to change. I believe you are the first visitor I have had to my verdant fields. I do hope you are enjoying it.” he replied.
"Friendly chat?" Apostate fell into thought against the sounds of the punches. "Well, yes, I suppose that is what we are doing. I'm much more used to blowing things up, you see… well I used to be…"
Arvum looked at the sun, ”The sun has travelled far in such a short time as we have had our conversation. It was a pleasant conversation, but I have duties I need to perform elsewhere.”
"Oh…" Apostate looked up at the sky. He thought for a moment before continuing slowly..."Did you want to go look at some ants?"
Arvum thought about it for a moment, ”I would not be opposed to it.”
-0-
Arvum continued his journey southward. This meeting had given much more to consider, especially concerning the story of a god who slaughtered his own charges and where this god stood in the grand scheme of creation.
However, his objective remained clear. He returned to the first farm, an appropriate position to enact his will. Time had changed the fields from his memories, and it had returned to being wild. Remnants of his encampment stubbornly refused to fade to the world. His mere presence seemed to restore it to a more orderly state.
He had completed the design, and imbued it with power. By his command, it washed over the world as a wave of energy, invisible to nearly all creatures except for the gods. The Eidolons could however feel it, if only vaguely. He had realized his gifts to them were insufficient. He hoped that his blessing could ensure they could prosper within this dangerous world.
Arvum explored the world, working upon an urgent project. He mentions several concerns, such as the parasitic blight to the south, the newly forged continent whose purpose is unclear, and the Stygian ocean he is crossing over.
He notices the Garden of Hevel, and investigates. Finding humans and eventually Apostate. Apostate and Arvum talk. Arvum notices the humans are receiving some type of combat training using wisps as practice dummies, and steps in place of one and requests one of the women training to hit him. Information is shared about Astus’ genocide and the Monarch and Tuku slaying a demon. They discuss philosophy and ants (mostly ants).
Apostate is confused by the conversation, but Arvum suggests that it was a friendly conversation. They go watch ants, before Arvum leaves for his true destination, the first farm. He empowers the Eidolons of the world, detailed in the vigor summary.
Apostate: 4
0 vigor (discounted): The humans of Hevel by accidental association with the God of Defiance have laced some of his smoke into their systems. As a result, the population has a tendency for defiance and aggressive emotion. On top of that, when repressed, they can summon a tiny pool of strength to defy the odds — the smoke in their systems puffing out from their lungs as they do.
Arvum Starting Vigor: 3 Ending Vigor: 1
Spent 2 Vigor to empower the Eidolon: As a species, they are able to enhance the amount of life-force that they produce and store, which causes them to be stronger and healthier. It is possible for them to reach a point of super-human strength and prolonged life-spans. They can also train themselves to expend excess life-force to empower themselves, or expel it in order to heal or empower others. They can also bind their life-force to a single, non-sapient organic object, flora or fauna to share it between two vessels, allowing it to be cultivated further.
Nascha rushed through the rain-drenched forest, desperately clinging to whatever food she could quickly scavenge. Even her womanly strength began to fail her due to malnutrition, and even the leaves and twigs beneath her giant feet challenged her progress. Even the sky conspired against her, washing away her tracks and obscuring her sight.
She was able to search elsewhere, when she felt her eyes drawn towards a strange mound of mud and moss, significantly larger than the small helper bijjiorks. It guided her back to her precious Niyol, who was more strongly influenced by the pains of hunger, laid near deed against the back of a tree. He meekly said, “Nascha” he said, pausing to see the food she was offering him, “You should eat. You could return to your tribe, convince them that you were taken by momentary madness.”
Nascha rested herself against a tree adjacent to him, placing the food between them. “No, you should eat. If it was for you, I could wait many sun-rises to eat again. As many as it would take.”
Giving a weak smile, “You are an unreasonable woman. We should at least share the food together.” he replied.
“You are an unreasonable man. We both know that this would hardly be enough for either of us as it is.” she retorted.
There was a pause between them, as Nascha allowed herself to slide down to the ground and lay down. Drowsiness began to overtake both of their stubbornness. Niyol stated, “I am going to rest. Please if you can not eat while I watch, then eat while I sleep and leave. I will be happy with your thoughtfulness alone.”
Nascha stared at the food, but eventually surrendered herself to the need of sleep. The constant drip of water through the leaves was making it more difficult. When she stirred, the water no longer reached her and yet she could still hear its rhythmic striking against the ground. Her eyes shot skyward, and suddenly she was sleeping beneath a great canopy. Looking around, the two trees that the pair were sleeping against had grown massive. The branches between the two trees had woven themselves together as if designed to protect them against the storm, and the roots had entwined in a ring around them.
She then noticed the strange mud mound had moved closer. She kicked Niyol to wake him, while she brushed the sleep from her eyes. On closer inspection, he looked vaguely like a tiny childan wrapped and covered in mud, almost like a youngling but not quite. Niyol startled up, quickly meeting her gaze and following it to the stranger, he panickedly asked, “Who are you.”
He responded, “I wish that you would eat first.” he said, gesturing toward their pile of food. He didn’t sound like a youngling. Nascha replied, “I won’t eat until there is enough for Niyol first.”, however Niyol didn’t reply. She looked at him, and he had a shocked expression.
She looked at the food supply herself, and suddenly it was a large pile of fruit. It appeared as though there was more than enough for the both of them. She hesitantly picked one up and handed it to Niyol, before grabbing one for herself. “How do we know they won’t make us sick and weak.” she said, a moment of silence met her as she realized that was already there current state.
The two ate together, and only after their stomachs no longer were in pain did Nascha ask, “But why did you help us? We broke the rule.”
The muddy entity answered, “It saddens me to see that you are bound to such entropic law. I helped because you have my gratitude.”
Niyol asked, “But what will become of us now?”
“The fruits of this tree are rightfully yours. If you stay here, food will be plentiful. I shall not dictate how you should live, except that you met the obligation that you share.” the entity replied.
Nascha repeated, “The obligation that we share?”
“I apologize. I did not realize that you were unaware.” he said, pointing to her stomach, “It is a burdensome, but joyous obligation.”
Nascha and Niyol exchanged glances. When they went to question the spirit further, it had already vanished.
Nascha and Niyol are two Childan who eloped together. Separated from their tribes, they have started to starve. Nascha gathered what food she could, but with it not being enough for the both of them, they both refused to eat. They fell asleep against the backs of trees, and when they woke up, those two trees had grown in size and their roots and branches had been entwined together. Arvum stood in front of them, appearing as a small vaguely human shape covered in mud. Suddenly, their small food supply became a pile of fruit with plenty for both of them. He vaguely explains that he is grateful to them, and says the two trees will be plenty to provide for them, but he won’t force them to do anything but met the obligation that they share. It is revealed that the obligation is that Nascha is pregnant. Then Arvum vanishes.
Arvum Starting Vigor: 3
No Vigor spent. Discounted with Cultivation to create two big, interlocked fruit trees that provide plentiful food all year around.
Pleased that his new creation was guarded from divine trespass, Arvum walked away from the moon and closer to the sun. His voice emanated from where it should not have been able to, ”Grand Monarch and Lord of All Lords, I respond to your summons.”
Almost instantaneously, the gates of the heavens opened for Arvum with the bridge extending its way to allow the lord his entry. It was there that he could see the Divine Palace, standing with its many pagodas and towers and walls all adorned in a dark red and jade trimmings at its very edges. The Protector of the Vestibule of the Lord stood wordlessly at the bridge, not paying much attention to the god other than a slight bow of the head before returning his attention back to Galbar. Not much could be said for him and so the path to the Jade Throne was clear, the Monarch of All sitting upon His place of rule and looking down upon Arvum. He spoke with a voice that echoed across the great room, His words clearer than any noise that could be heard.
”Welcome, Arvum, Lord of Golden Fields.”
Arvum walked past the guardian, noting his presence and nodding to him. He continued to just past the entrance of the throne room, ”Greetings, Grand Monarch.”
The Monarch of All gestured one of His clawed hands to a nearby visible garden, showing the purpose of why He had summoned Arvum in the first place. Though, it became clearer as He explained to the younger god what had happened since the last time the god had set foot in the Divine Palace. His words ebbed at the very shard that formed Arvum’s being, almost whispering to it directly as He spoke.
”I used your shard to create these gardens, to make the Divine Palace beautiful as it is now. Yet, the more I look upon the gardens the more I am growing to despise how they look. I have tried to rectify this but the results have been less than perfect. That is why I have called upon you, Arvum.”
Arvum gracefully walked through the gardens, closely examining every plant and structure therein. While he did his inspection, he did sense lingering traces of his essence in another’s creation. ”Do these gardens have purpose beyond being aesthetically pleasing?”
”Not when they had initially been made. Before I had created all of you, I merely made this palace as a place to rule from and nothing more.”
The Monarch of All did not move as He spoke, merely noting where Arvum was within the palace as he inspected the garden meticulously. There was no reason for Him to rise, not when He could see what Arvum was doing and certainly not when His status as king meant that He did not have to rise for His subjects. The Great Ruler of Reality allowed Arvum to continue his inspection, not wishing to rush whatever creative processes were going through the shard’s mind. After all, interruption was an artist's greatest bane, a fact that the Monarch of All knew all too well when He had first desired this Kingdom of His.
After finalizing his digilent examination, he revitalized the garden with his essence and seeded them with new designs, "I could not find any grievous fault, perhaps it is the monotony that offends you? I ask you to forgive my assumption. I have worked to ensure your garden shall have myriad forms, it requires only your consent and it shall shift to a different arrangement of my design. I also have a design for a more grandiose garden, however I believe it would be diminished if not given a proper space within the castle walls as it requires a particular lighting.”
The Master of the Gods pondered the idea, bringing a hand to rub against the edges of His chin as He imagined the something so grandiose in His palace. Yet, He knew that it might take away from the very fact that it was the Monarch of All who made the Divine Palace beautiful, giving Arvum more credit than he might deserve. The garden changed its shapes between the differing arrangements that Arvum had prepared and none would satiate the desire for the artistry that He desired. With a grumble, the Monarch of All pushed Himself from the Jade Throne and looked down upon the god, His voice commanded that the construction begin.
”Very well, make me the most grandiose of gardens and let all the other gods look upon it with envy.”
Arvum nodded, and walked into an appropriate, empty room near the gardens. He sealed the door, not to obscure himself from the Lord of All Lords, but to ensure that he may work freely without fear that his creation would escape its intended boundaries.
From the god’s form emerged a radiance that engulfed the entire room. He worked to shape the room to the Monarch’s exacting requirements, spending several hours to ensure that the smallest detail was correct. It was an exhausting and burdensome effort, but one ultimately personally rewarding.
Mosaic paths extended and split from the room’s entrance, providing the only safe places to step within the room. The rest of the room was covered in short, green crystalline grass that would shatter under any mortal's foot. Electrum pots, engraved with intricate but elegant carvings along their upper portions, floated above the grass, and from them grew solitary flowers and flowering vines with petals constructed of a similar translucent structure.
The center of the room was dominated by a pillar of bronze that upon closer inspection was a great tree, its numerous blue, glass-like leaves gave the impression that there was sky overhead. The illusion was only broken by glowing golden moss that grew from the tree branches and would occasionally dip down beneath the blue glass. Despite its natural appearance, the leaves, grass and flowers were placed in precisely the correct position to refract the light in pleasing manners while under the metallic pillar’s shade.
The upper branches of the tree which were nigh invisible from the surface would occasionally grow peaches. The peaches would fade in a mere hour after being removed from the tree, but eating one would imbue a mortal with potent life energy, helping ensure they have a long, healthy life and permitting them to emulate the vital powers of an Eidolon. Reaching them would be a herculean task, as the mosaic paths did not extend to meet the tree, the bronze trees branches were polished to a shine and made difficult to climb, its leaves were as sharp as blades, and light from the moss would reflect in odd ways within the branches.
Arvum opened the door, a mostly symbolic gesture, ”Perhaps this is simpler than you expected, especially compared to the majesty of your castle, however I hope that is a pleasant addition to your dwelling.”
As the Monarch of All entered the room, He was at first stunned by it and then He was put into awe by the resplendent beauty that the garden held for it cast back His radiant light. He did not speak, instead taking time to tour the garden and meticulously looking over each and every piece that brought the room together. This was not to find any imperfections that may have existed within the garden, but rather, it was in admiration of what had been created in His glory and it did well not to itself outshine the great palace. The Monarch of All spoke as He looked upon the bronze tree, the light from His wound bathing reflecting across the garden.
”This is truly a work of art, Arvum.”
”I was simply inspired by the wonders and frailties of life.” Arvum replied. ”Perhaps it is inappropriate to mention, however the destruction that has been sown across our pantheon has deeply concerned me. I am sure that my work has not gone unnoticed. I do not know if it would ever be possible to restore the shards that have been lost, but I wish to do everything I can to preserve and restore creation. May I be so bold to request your aid in this endeavour?”
The Monarch of All seemed to stop as Arvum began to talk about the destruction of His subjects, and the talk of restoring shards would be what would earn His full attention as He looked to Arvum. Turning away from the bronze tree, His Majesty walked along the path, continuing to tour the freshly made garden as He thought of an answer to the question that had been posed to Him. When He spoke, it was soft yet His gaze would not return to the lord as He continued His walk along the garden.
”A shard is not something that can be restored. It is the very essence, the manifestation, of my own soul and to have it destroyed is not something that even I can accomplish.”
Deciding it best not to contradict the Monarch, he replied ”I hope you understand that as mortals can not comprehend the divine, I struggle to understand your nature. But even if I misunderstood and that you are above the petty squabbles of the gods, I would request you pay heed to those below.” he said, gesturing towards his newly created garden, “I could only create something like this because I can fear not the influence of the Others. Upon Galbar, the situation is more complicated and I do believe that my work could become greater should I be better equipped to handle any complications that might arise. Of course, I would not use this solely for myself, but for creation.
”The complications imposed upon one by others is what strives them forwards. It is an annoyance, yes, but I already have one enforcing my will and order upon Galbar. You needn’t my aid for something that would push your future creations into the pinnacle of what they could become.”
”I am sorry, I never meant to suggest I needed to be able to prevent conflict all together, but merely restore what is left afterwards. The forest can become stronger after a burn, but only if not all was all burnt to cinder and that it is given the chance to replenish itself.”
It was then that the Monarch of All snapped His head towards Arvum, his voice quick and filled with a brief anger that resonated within the room.
”If a wound is meant to heal then it shall. If it shall fester and decay then let it wither away until there is nothing left so that something new may take its place!”
The Great Lord pulled a hand up instinctively to trace the edge of the glowing wound upon His chest, seeming to try and find solace within the fact that it was the one wound that He could not heal. He looked away, unable to look upon Arvum any longer as the thoughts of the wound took hold of His mind, casting away the good that had been planted there. It took a moment of silence for the God of Gods to speak again, His gaze turning back to the bronze tree and its fruit - His voice was soft once more.
”Some things are not meant to be restored, Arvum.”
”I believe that is the last of my duties here. I hope you will excuse my quick departure, but I am sure you have more important matters to attend to and will not take any more of your time.” he said, walking towards the entrance of the garden room. As he walked past one of the floating planters, he carefully examined it and plucked one of the crystalline leaves from a vine, ”I apologize, it seems as though I had made an error in the arrangement.” he said, using the barest effort to crush it into dust.
After visiting the moon, Arvum walks closer to the sun and asks to be invited into the palace.
The Monarch wants Arvum to make his gardens more appealing, but Arvum can’t find anything wrong with them. So he creates a lot of designs, and gives the Monarch the ability to shift between them at his choosing.
Arvum saids that he had a grander design, but it would need to be placed in a room. The Monarch permits him, and he creates the Garden of Glass, an opulent garden where the plants are primarily composed of delicate crystalline material. The Monarch likes it because it reflects his own light in a pleasing manner.
Arvum mentions the recent deicides and how he wants to preserve and restore creation and asks the Monarch if he would assist him, and there is some back and forth before the Monarch gets angry and he says that somethings are just meant to be.
Arvum starts to leave, but prunes an out of place leaf using the opportunity to demonstrate how fragile the precious garden is.
Monarch Starting Vigor: Yes
Arvum Starting Vigor: 4 Ending Vigor: 2
0 Vigor: Discounted with Cultivation: Blessed the Monarch’s gardens to be able to regrow and rearrange themselves into a myriad of different designs.
-2 Vigor: Created the Garden of Glass: An opulent garden of plants made of reflective and delicate crystals. In the center, there is a bronze tree that has difficult to reach fruit that when consumed imbues the person with life in energy form. This grants them a longer and healthy life, and allows them to emulate the innate life-force abilities of an Eidolon. An Eidolon would also gain a longer and healthy life, but instead their existing life-force abilities would be enhanced.
It was not long ago that Lyell was a young Kynikos staring at the moon and pondering mysterious. However, his true interest laid below the surface and he was almost resentful of the moon for calling him back to the prime outpost. Some of the others were satiated by staring at dirt and watching biological life slowly grow. He sustained himself by learning of rocks and metals, slamming them together to find out which one was stronger or dropping them to find out which ones were heavier. His childish games becoming more refined with age as with others of his kin.
His true love was the lava river, which semi-regularly ebbed and flowed near the secondary outpost. However he had precious few times to visit it as it would take nearly all of his daylit hours to travel down and back to the surface. The older clothe-based Kynikos preferred to remain far from its heat and the dirt and grim of the caves in general. But he saw the rock-based Kynikos of the secondary outpost work, burying things when the magma was low and seeing what would happen to it after it raised and fell again.
When he was appropriately inspired, Lyell moved to the secondary base to construct his new body. However, instead of stone and mud he had grander designs based upon the research he had diligently listened to and absorbed. He was not content to simply live by its shore, he wanted to explore it properly as those before him explored the corrosive sea. Others worried that could construct his body before his mind began to degrade, however his determination did not yield to his nature.
His form was simple, and yet vastly distinct from both his rock-based and clothe-based kin. His arms, legs and torso was constructed from metals which did not liquify under the intense heat. The only breaks in the metal were for the arm and leg joints. Shards of obsidian were moved by his ghastly spiritual form to act as fingers and toes. He lacked a head, but he felt that feature was not strictly required and he was already straining himself and teetering on the edge of mentally breaking sending as long as he did to construct this simple form.
Confident in his new shell, Lyell approached the lava pool. Its oppressive heat would ward off his kin, but he was resilient to it. It was mildly uncomfortable but he would adjust for the sake of exploration and discovery. He began to walk into magma, his metallic frame and glassy appendages survived the contact. It irritated his skeleton. As the top of his frame submerged, it was difficult to see. He roamed around, feeling around confirming that the rock tunnel continued downward from their location.
His spent his time meandering around and gathering whatever samples he could. Occasionally rising to the surface to the deposit them as his simply made hands could only carry so much. Eventually, his skeleton began to hurt and he rushed towards the maw of the lava river. It was difficult with his crudely made legs, however he succeeded collapsing to the ground near his samples. His rock-based kin braved the hot aura of the magma and dragged him to safety. With another carefully grabbing his work, knowing that had they left it he would have rushed back for it.
His limited success had caught several of the younger rock-based Kynikos attention and together they examined what went wrong. Together, they discovered that while the main components of his skeleton could survive the heat, it had impurities that would melt away after prolonged periods within the heat. Learning this, it was rather simple to repair and allow him to continue his work, knowing that he only needed to limit his time within the magma and spending some amount of time to expel that heat before continuing his expeditions.
Lynell considered this slow and steady approach. The fear of destruction had tempered his youthful haste. He didn't even find anything of great substance as he sat down with his newly found followers to examine his samples. Until one of his assistant dropped one his oddly large and round rocks. Everyone originally looked at him with scornful glares until they looked down at it. It cracked upon and revealed a crystalline interior with small rock pods instead it. They studied the strange rock voraciously, until it began stranger. It began to rot and decay as if it were plant above, leaving just the rock pods and an earthen mush. Its changed only encouraged them to study it further.
Lynell realized that his body was not prefect, and that he could not truly explore the magma properly. And so he would build himself a superior body, one that was capable of venturing into the very depths of the heat. And he was not alone in this endeavor.
Some Kynikos settled near a cave that leads to the magma tunnels. Lynell is interested in the magma tunnels, but has to mostly stay on the surface to watch the stupid moon and be inspired. They do real science near the magma tunnels, like wait for the lava to recede, bury something there, let the lava wash over it and then back down, and then see what happens.
Based on this, Lynell constructs himself a body out of materials that can resist the intense heat. However it is pretty simple since he was a kid, it was a prototype and it was already taking a long time to make the simple body and he didn't want to go insane. He goes down into the lava tunnels, gathering some samples but eventually it hurts. Turns out his form isn't heat-resistant to remain in the lava indefinitely. This success encourages some other young Kynikos to follow him and help him in his studies. He starts to be convinced to take it slow, and it starts to sink in since he didn't find anything groundbreaking, but while he looking over the samples, someone drops one and it turns out to be a geode melon. Lynell and some of his followers to build a better, more heat-resistant body to further explore the magma tunnels.
Arvum walked upwards upon the air until there was no more air beneath him, however he continued to walk. Eventually, he reached the moon. It was rather barren, a lifeless and pale surface broken up only by the rifts and craters that scarred it, but perhaps that was simply its nature.
He allowed his feet to gently rest upon its surface near the boundary between the light and dark half, well away from the worst of the craters and ravines, and waited. His coming had of course been observed, if not predicted, and Yudaiel’s presence became clear soon enough. The usually motionless regolith shifted as it was charged and blown by some shrouded force – even on the windless surface – as the goddess drifted closer to the visitor with her unseen vastness. She made no efforts to mask her telekinetically charged bulk or her divine presence and nature, but neither did her advance come as a surge so rapid as to seem overly threatening.
A wordless, wispy, invisible tendril of thought reached out to establish contact. There was a dark landscape, but it was at least cool and peaceful. Dawn and dew came, as when the day’s warmth reinvigorated all the verdant greenery, a white daisy bloomed and turned ever so slightly to face the sun – not the Great Sun, but rather that one which wore a cloak of soil and greenery so vast that even this very Daisy grew upon one of its folds.
”Greetings, Shardbearer and Lord of Visions. Much has happened since we were born into our divine responsibilities.” Arvum stated.
Much indeed had happened. A kaleidoscopic array of images flashed into sight, a hundred in every which direction and in every instant. The river of color and thought moved too quickly and frothily for much to be discerned, but it possessed a surreal beauty nonetheless. Interspersed here and there where Arvum focused his gaze were the sights of him in Nalusa, shaping rivers and speaking to the ones called Darius and Medes. Those visions in particular were laden with some amount of pleasure and satisfaction – a silent offering of gratitude, perhaps. Ah, but then the focus honed in upon gemstones, a few that Arvum had once palmed himself.
The vast array of color and sights was consumed by a fire that wiped it away as quickly as it’d first been presented. From the ashes diamonds were compressed and coalesced, drops of blood staining them. The undertone for that was markedly different – displeasure, laced perhaps with even a small bit of anger. With every passing moment, those diamonds scintillated and bent light in strange ways, obscuring one another and muddying the vision’s clarity.
Gracefully ignoring the latter part of the message, Arvum replied, ”I did not expect anyone within the landscape so shortly after it had been ravaged. However, Darius and Medes were interesting characters who seem to have the potential to be good rulers. I believe I owe you the honor of having the chance to meet them both, I must thank you for that.”
With renewed perspicuity the diamonds broke down into shards, then dust, then soil. A daisy sprouted, and the first vision was restored anew. It withered and died just as quickly. Countless different seeds became like raindrops and fell onto the soil with a light patter, but it was dry clay and they rested unburied.
That empty slate of a landscape almost audibly begged the questions: What would the gardener cultivate? What did he want?
Arvum gestured vaguely towards a point upon the Galbar, a godly eye being able to trace it down to a particular island. ”As I believe you know better than most, there have been troubling events that bode poorly for the future. I believe that some preparations could save us from heartache later. Your vision pierces deeper than most, I believe you can see what the island guards.”
Arvum’s words were the narration for what almost passed for a play: first the so-called isle of Hortus presented itself, the likeness of the Asclepius Orb, then the face of Diana. His final statement prompted the bubbling pool of life and its components to come into view… and then the shadowy silhouettes of tiny buzzing flies and great demonic monsters appeared along the periphery of sight, creeping down through the caverns above like moths drawn to flame. Yes, she Saw what Arvum had done, and also what he feared.
He continued his thought, “I believe I have created something good and precious, but it is a shame that good and precious things must often be kept under lock and key. I cannot stay beside the lake forever else I will be unable to continue my work elsewhere. Any barrier I can create, another could destroy. But as I understand it, none but the Lord of all Lords can elude your sight.”
Blinding light flooded into view; it was the Greatest Sun’s own brilliant aura of awe. From the unyielding brightness eventually emerged shapes, and the resplendence of the divine palace was arrayed, where He, the one who had declared Himself the Monarch of All, sat upon a throne of jade with a tired and glowering visage. And then He rose, and walked backwards down the bridge into the depths of the ocean, and shook the corpse of a demon back to life, pulled spears from its shadowy flesh of smoke, met with a ready Tuku, and then asked the Master of the Hunt to accompany Him. No, she seemingly Saw all things, and clearly was slighted by even the idea that she could not peer through His aura and see on the other side.
Arvum was surprised by the vision, but he continued as if it was a casual conversation, ”I was unaware that there was an unseen foe that the Monarch dreaded. My attention had been turned elsewhere. I must thank you again for sharing this information.”
A veil emerged to conceal once more the revelations of that near-omniscient perspective. The cloth was woven thin enough that pinpricks of light poked through, and perhaps a discerning eye could see the shadowy shape of things beyond it, but what good was that?
The veil came closer, so close that it was near smothering, and it obscured Arvum’s Sight. If his mind could not tear through or push aside these curtains, perhaps another could. She could certainly remove the veil from others, and had done as much even for some mortals. But of course, blinding light and unadulterated chaos lurked on the other side of that thin cloth. The curses of madness and inaction-through-indecision could afflict those with the Sight who looked too close or too often into the discord, and perhaps leave them worse than blind, the vision warned.
Still, it made for a tempting offer.
Arvum ultimately pushed against the idea, ”I believe it is unwise for me to accept such a generous offer. There are some things I would be glad to be surprised by, and for everything else there are methods to avoid them. Asking for your assistance to pierce through the veil of time is perhaps the most cautious means but I believe the situation warrants it. I also ask that you do not mistake blindness for being senseless. We all have our ways of navigating through existence.”
The sea of consciousness that surrounded Arvum on the bleak moon just danced with bemusement for a moment, seemingly unbothered and unsurprised by his refusal.
”I would appreciate your assistance creating something that I can place within the caves that can sense intruders and their motives and relay that information to me. You would also obviously have access to that information as well. I merely wish to protect my project, not obscure its true nature from any shardbearer.” he said.
Quizzical silence reigned for a while as the goddess mulled over such a request. The Great and All-Seeing Eye focused its gaze upon Hortus; the terrain of the island’s surface was no impediment to her viewing of the caverns below and all that was contained within. Her attention was sustained for a few moments by the beryl glow of some subterranean moss of Arvum’s make. There was also the squat and subtle presence of something else that had been created of her own volitions – that fungi that held the key to burning away the veil, that which had the potency to expand and dissociate the mind of its eater, that which was her boon to all the mortals that dared accept it. An idea crossed Yudaiel’s mind – bringing about the union of those two specimens could perhaps accomplish Arvum’s goal. So, she showed him.
A future possibility presented itself: the caverns’ moss and fungi crept closer and closer, guided by divine intervention, until they finally intertwined. Together, they became something vastly more than the sum of the two constituent lifeforms. It resembled not those stalks of shrooms that grew like trees, either alone or in little copse-clusters, but that moss which carpeted whole walls and ceilings. This was a rapacious and greedy sort of being, one that clambered across the cave walls like mold and expanded to cover as much space as it could. It grew and lived with some degree of sapience, for it was a living and breathing organism, one great colony that was both conscious and sapient. When trodden upon, it hissed and roared and screamed in a silent voice, and for those with ears to hear, that was alarm enough. When eaten, it catalyzed psychosis if not death.
Yes, mortals would not easily tread unknown through those tunnels when every step agitated that hivemind of psychic fungi, but then the divine were not so easily thwarted. Some would be foolish enough to ignore or not see the nature and purpose of the colony and would tread upon it like any others, but some might fly or otherwise transpose themselves into the cave without disturbing the guardian-colony. Well, at least the divine could hardly help but project an aura so pungent that even a blind seer could See it from nearly over the horizon. Moss and lichen were things very sensitive to their environs, and so likewise this prescient colony would be sensitive to all manner of magic or other powers in its surroundings. It would know if any of the divine visited, even if it could hardly stop them, even if they sought to teleport through or otherwise bypass the places where it grew.
”It is unformed, and yet I can sense its aggression.” he said without judgement. In answer, a rose bush appeared without thorns, and it was soon devoured by a beast that lacked claws, and that hapless animal was in turn beset by a predator and similarly made into a meal. Self-preservation warranted some amount of aggression.
”I believe that slightly below the ocean’s floor would be an excellent place for your creation. I am not sure if fungi have been properly appreciated by god or mortal, but I must commend you for your intricate colony design.” Arvum stated.
From high up on a mountain, cool spring water emerged, fresh and pure, as a result of their productive pairing. It flowed outward to the precipice of a cliff before cascading down. It made for a stirring and beautiful sight, but once it struck the rocks down far below, it came time to spill forth and create another waterfall… such was the way of reciprocity.
When those waters continued on, gleaming in the light of the sun, they landed in dry foothills and meandered on as a tributary, before eventually merging into a much larger river that ran its course through a dry stretch of desert. Upon the riverbanks, weary and exhausted and with an arm both burnt and somehow decayed – aged, even – by perverse powers, there rested a familiar prophet. So Arvum saw then that the Medians had arrived at the place he had offered them, after a long and arduous trek, after fending off a lion and encountering the one called Apostate.
Arvum reached his hand and closed it. ”As I have favored those who followed Darius, I have favored those who followed Medes upon your behalf. They shall have legumes, root vegetables, and spices, but they shall not have grain. I have given them a different gift, one more suited to your nature than mine.” he said, opening his hand and revealing a strange stem with pinkish-purple leaves. ”This spice shall enhance the mystic properties of any food or drink served with it. I believe it is well suited to your purposes?”
The weight of Yudaiel’s ever-present stare became much heavier with those words. She carefully examined the odd plant, and its leaves rustled without wind as she turned it over and pried and prodded at it telekinetically. The visions did not come during that intermission, but as they were close and their minds still partially linked, some bits of her thoughts seeped through: she was very pleased, and more than a bit curious, but she’d quickly enough determined that the substance was far too mild to have any appreciable effect upon her vast Sight. Still, that was only to be expected – how would any of these gods beside her ever perfect the Sight, or improve it beyond the pinnacles of her abilities? Though not at all suitable for her, especially given her formless nature, it might nonetheless prove very useful for those seers and prophets that she had blessed, and any other sorcerers besides.
Yes, a bargain had been struck.
Space distorted and rippled slightly as she projected magic and mind and might across the vast distance between her moon and the Galbar, plucking at invisible threads that ran all the way into the depths of that cavern. Her confinement upon the moon was dreary, but even from afar, she remained capable of exerting a good deal of power it seemed… this was just a laborious and somewhat slow task, made difficult by the distance. This time she did not have that Codex to act as a focusing lens, after all.
Engineering this creation demanded time, and the better part of an hour passed. While she was engrossed in the work, Arvum was left alone to his own devices on the bleak lunar landscape, but it was worth the wait. The colony of fungus was born; it erupted into life with a silent chorus of telepathic song, and in that moment she truly did feel some fondness for it. It was not quite like a child, but it was a living and thinking being all the same, and the first one of that sort that she had truly created all on her own. It would serve Arvum well, and she might enjoy occasionally speaking to it. Perhaps even he would, too. As his sentry it had an ingrained means of calling out to him in particular, after all, and on occasion it might babble even if it had little of import to announce.
Arvum nodded, sensing the creature’s presence from far away. ”Splendid work. I apologize for leaving so soon, however there is a great deal more work to be done. Perhaps we can collaborate in the future.”
Yudaiel withdrew and began drifting back to her usual seat in the grandest crater. Her parting ideabstraction was one that bore the sentiment of her farewell, devoid of any refined imagery but nonetheless clear enough. In place of darkness came an omnipresent warmth and color, and soothing undertones were laden into it too. And then the two had parted ways.
Arvum goes to visit the moon, and Yudaiel greets him with more warmth than she’s shown anybody else. She was happy about what he did for the humans in Nalusa, though there’s some tension over him knowing that she killed Ashevelen and her not liking whatever he’s been messing around with the blood diamonds for.
He states that he’s come to ask for help watching his new lake under the Serene Island, because nobody can evade her Sight except the Monarch. The implication of that chafes her prodigious ego, so she corrects the record and proves that she can indeed see Moneo by replaying the CCTV of some recent actions; Arvum thus incidentally comes to learn about some of what happened with the Pariah.
They strike a deal: Yudaiel creates an extraordinary creature to guard his caverns and the lake inside (it’s a telepathic and sapient colony of fungus) and in return he agrees to help out Medes and his group down in Nalusa some more. Notably, he’ll bestow more crops upon them, including a very magical and special spice that can enhance the magical properties of other foods. The spice must flow!
Yudaiel begins with 6 vigor.
2 is spent on the single powerful creature that is the Psychic Fungus, our setting’s second fungal hivemind! This one isn’t quite as malevolent as Yesaris’ in the Hivelands, and it’s confined just to the caves under the Serene Island of Hortus to act as a sentry. Nonetheless, it is somewhat hostile to mortals and doesn’t like being stepped upon. It’s just a layer of mold-like fungi, so it can’t directly retaliate (though it is toxic to any who eat it) but being psychic means it could harass you with strange visions and hallucinations perhaps. Offering it food, perhaps in the form of smearing honey on or near it, might ingratiate you with the colony and make it not harass you too much as you step on it. It can also telepathically talk to Arvum and Yudaiel, and it instinctively raises the alert when it senses divines nearby or mortals venturing down.
Yudaiel ends with 4 vigor.
Arvum Starting: 4 Ending: 3
Free: Taught those who followed Medes how to farm legumes, root vegetables and spices.
1 Vigor: Created an extraordinary species of spice located around the river that Medes settled, it is a stem plant with pinkish purple leaves. It can be mixed with a food or drink to amplify their supernatural qualities.
Deep within the Duskwall, survivors huddled together for the illusion of safety. They had no herds, no steeds and no weapons except for one broken spear. From the old stories, the north was described as a place of promise and wonder. Some people merely found their band, while others choose to the journey to find escape from conflict or injustice.
They marched forward seeking paradise, knowing that they would only find the shroud. Intruders did not need to rely upon deception within the eternal dark, and there attacks were constant. Some where brash enough to demand tribute, but the only tribute where those who fought off the monster. They knew they could never win, but they could distract it long enough for the others to escape. Food was scarce, and yet it was shared anyways with the healthiest choosing to eat last. They had learned that lighting fires was a beacon to the intruders, but found warmth in each other.
A young women, who was practicing to become a storyteller, started to one day clasp her hands together and ask for the ancestor's strength to find paradise. Diana was charisma, and her stories where a source of hope in these dark times. She had originally done it in private, and had never intended her it to spread, but she was happy that others found something from her little ritual.
Eventually, everyone had said the ritual except for one. Gerard had carried the spear that his father had once wielded long after it had been broken. He thought it was rather silly. The ancestors had left this world for whatever was after, and they couldn't hear or offer aid even if they wished it so. Gerard once muttered to himself about how people did asked for the ancestor's help were fools, but Diana walked behind and said that they were fools with hope.
Then members of the still numerous crowd begin to disappearing one by one. A mere blink and the person walking ahead would be gone. Diana was the first to disappear, and the crowd reacted with uncertain panic. As more and more disappeared, they begin to instinctively huddled closer together. Gerald waving his broken branch outwards towards the unseen adversity. And yet more and more people disappeared.
It happened so far, and suddenly Gerald was alone. Confusion and anger radiated from him, except that he had nowhere to direct it. He cried out skyward, "Whoever stole away my people, reveal yourself"
As commanded, a person appeared before him, an Eidolon dressed in the traditional furs. Gerard's emotion boiled over and he began to laugh, "You possess the form of the Eidolon, but I know that you are not."
The strange spirit replied "The truth of your words depends upon perspective. What is an Eidolon?"
He tried to explain, yet his words kept failing him. He pushed past that, "Why did you take my band? Why was I left behind?"
"They asked. You did not." he replied. His tone even and neutral as if he was simply repeating a fact.
He was stunned, his emotions manifested as a flurry of questions, "And so if I asked, you would take me to them? Are you some spirit of wishes? How do I know that is not some trick and that they are all dead. I have heard the shroud described as paradise."
Arvum calmly answered the questions, "Yes. If you asked, I would take you. No. I am not a spirit of wishes, my true nature is different. I must admit that I might not have intervened had I not need. You must understand that I am powerful, but I am not without limits. Nor am I without equals, I could easily scour the intruders from the plains and yet it would likely only provoke a greater response from their creator. They are alive, and they were each given the choice to return to where they were. The shroud is another matter, but should I have wished that to be your faith, all I would have needed to do is not intervene."
He attempted to process this information, but how could he when he didn't know how true his words were. "How do I not know that you are diverting us with lies to hide away the daylight from us?"
The spirit pointed north and asked, "That was the direction you would have headed towards?" and the man hesitantly nodded. Suddenly, he was within Arvum's arms and they begin to walk in that direction. However he was walking far faster than Eidolon should be able, and the only reason that he could tell is because he saw that landmarks would appear and quickly disappear. He could not feel the strangest emotions, but something else. Something familiar. It reminded him of the sacred grounds, and what it felt like to run his hands along the strange golden grass that grew there. Quickly, they appeared before three winged intruders, eidolon corpses strewn about them.
Gerald froze, and yet the the spirit seemed to have no fear of them. They lunged towards him, and he merely looked at them and their wings failed them causing them to tumble to the ground. When it took small steps towards them, it was intruders who ran away. Gerald asked, "Why are we here."
Arvum waved his hand, and suddenly two knifes appeared in his hand and he outstretched one towards him. He flinched, until he realized that he was handing him the handle. "Do you want to fight. You think I am scared of you and your illusions now."
He turned around, and grabbed something behind him that wasn't there before. It was a rawhide by a stack of them. There was also two clay pots, one filled with water and the other blood. It took a second realization, and after he saw the spirit preform the funeral rights for one of the fallen, he began to do so as well. The feel of their dead corpses and the gleam of their hearts was unmistakable, this was no illusion.
Once they finished their task, he had only one question, "Why?"
"I am one of the great forces which roam the world, our works grander than your current imagination. I seek to preserve life and permit it to flourish. For reasons I myself do not truly understand, I believe that mortals are vital to achieve my ends." he said.
"Reveal to me your true form and nature, and mayhap I should believe you." he insisted.
"I warn the experience is unpleasant to mortals. I would advise against it." he said. And yet, he did. And so Arvum revealed his true form and the man's breath was taken from him. He found himself falling to one knee. He looked deeply into his featureless face, and began to see the stories that he had the storytellers repeat from generation's past. However, he saw them as they were and not as they were told. He begged forgiveness even as he felt he was going to collapse from exhaustion. As he returned to his disguise to allow the eidolon to recover.
"Why did you leave?" he muttered.
Arvum replied "I am a spirit of many things, but the core of my essence is cultivation -- growth. Had I remained, I would have provided shelter but that shelter would have covered you from the sun and limited how far into the sky you could have grown. There are some which perished due to that, while others flourished. My choice had consequences, and yet any other choice I would have made would have also had consequence. My power means my choices have far greater consequences, for good or for ill. I can not make them lightly, yet I must still make them. Inaction itself is a choice."
He still muttered, "I do not truly understand, but I trust you. Perhaps I am a fool, but I would be a fool with hope. With nothing else but a broken spear, I can claim that. I do not care what your conditions are, I ask that you take me to paradise."
Arvum nodded, "You will not need a spear, broke or otherwise. I ask first that you hand it to me." There was a long pause and he grabbed his broken spear and held it close to him. The spirit continued, "Where you words empty before?"
Still recovering from the god's presence, he replied, "It was my fathers. I value it."
He expected the spirit to become angry at defiance, or maybe amusement by his stupid mortal sentimentality, but instead he nodded in agreement, "If you value you it, then I shall value it. It will be treated well."
He hesitantly handled the broken spear to him, and he took and held it high. The broken wood regrew from nothing and the pole of the spear had been fully repaired, however it still lacked the pointed end of a spear. He then handed it back.
Gerald was confused even further, "You said that I didn't need a spear."
The spirit replied "It is now a staff. The island has predators upon it, but present them this staff and they shall become docile unless provoked. I have appointed Diana as leader of all Eidolon upon the island, obey her rule and the rule of her successors for as long it is wise and just. Attempt to the best of your ability to live in peace with yourself and all that lives upon or below the island. Strive to better yourself and your community. Know that the island's depths hold danger and that you are not to tread deep below its ground lightly. Hold none in higher regard than my creator, the creator of all the powerful forces of the world, however you may otherwise give reverence as you please. " he said.
Gerald knew his answer immediately, but was paused by weight of the conversation, he closed his eyes, "I accept your conditions. I ask that I be taken to this island precious to you, my ancestor and creation of the most high one."
When he opened his eyes again, he was upon the island and he saw his fellow Eidolon making preparations. Diana walked over to him, and they had a long conversation about his encounter with the greater force of cultivation.
A group of survivors without any real supplies is walking through the Duskwall, slowly being picked off. However this only caused them to rely more upon each other. Diana, a person who wanted to be a story-teller, starts praying to ancestors for strength to find paradise. Others copy her, all except one, Gerald. Gerald carries the broken spear his father owned, and isn't big into superstition.
Everyone starts disappear, and Gerald asks the person responsible to appear. And so Arvum appears as an Eidolon. Gerald immediately knows that he isn't an Eidolon, and they have a long talk. Gerald doesn't trust Arvum, and so Arvum shows them that there group was relatively close to walking into the feeding grounds of three bat vertan. Arvum scares them off, but Gerald isn't convinced. Arvum helps perform the funeral rites of the victims of the intruders, and he starts to gain his trust. He asks to see his true form, and after being asked if he was sure, reveals his true form. Gerald has a spirit revelation and realizes that he is Avros.
They talk about Arvum's motivation and Gerald agrees to what conditions that Arvum might impose to serve him. Arvum asks for his spear, and he is reluctant but hands it to him after saying he would value it. Arvum turns it to a staff that can quell wild animals and hands it back to him.
He tells him the rules to live on the island: I have appointed Diana as leader of all Eidolon upon the island, obey her rule and the rule of her successors for as long it is wise and just. Attempt to the best of your ability to live in peace with yourself and all that lives upon or below the island. Strive to better yourself and your community. Know that the island's depths hold danger and that you are not to tread deep below its ground lightly. Hold none in higher regard than my creator, the creator of all the powerful forces of the world, however you may otherwise give reverence as you please.
Arvum No Change
-0 Created Gerald's Staff (Discounted by Cultivation): When this staff is presented to animal, the animal becomes mildly more amiable to sapients and slightly less aggressive.
Within a deep cave below the ocean, somewhere between the great central mountains and the eastern continent of Orsus, Arvum continued his endless toil.
Above the ocean had formed a great island according to his will. He had named it the Serene Island, Hortus. Food, water and medicine were plentiful upon it. The air was clean and soil was fertile. Windswept meadows gave way to bountiful forests. Hot springs dotted the landscape. Honey bees flew through various fruit and tea trees to land upon a radiantly colored flower.
The island was not entirely without danger, but it was accommodating to mortals by design. Snakes roamed the grasses and ponds. Ants would bite those who trampled over their nests. Predatory birds might occasionally swoop by to scare something away their nests. The fiercest predators of the island were the various species of omnivorous bears who territorially guard their cavernous homes.
The caves were plenty with life, mostly composed of simple plants like grasses and vines, fungi, insects and fish. There were deep and labyrinthine, become more dangerous as a person climbed down them. The ground was not always stable underfoot, and the flora and fauna was less cooperative to mortal-kind. However, it was not without wonder or intrigue. Water was still plentiful in many underground reservoirs. A blue moss grow among the rock and dirt, providing illumination in certain parts of the cave. In parts of the cave, it would appear that there was sky above, while it dimly lit others portions and was absent from still others, leaving them to the darkness. There was also exotic and potent medicines which only grew within these caves.
As the cavern twist in turn, they occasionally run past the borders of the island above. In the upper regions of the underground, these tunnels connect to the surrounding sea, creating pockets of salt water where oceanic fish dwell. Even deeper these tunnels connect to the molten caves below. The heat overwhelmed these portions scouring away organic life, however the earthen plants of the magmatic environment might take root in these places.
In the deepest of these caves, Arvum stood around a lake of green primordial life - proteins, lipids and glycans forming together and breaking apart. Etched Pillars rose from the floor to support the ceiling. The wild life of the cave did not enter the sacred chamber for it was the patient god's will.
The lake embodied his domain of cultivation, however it also represented something else, his aspirations. Arvum realized that there would be times where he would need to heal the world so that life could flourish upon it. The lake stood as testament to that commitment. Merely being in its presence would help organic beings to meld themselves. However to truly benefit from the lake, one would need to bathe within it or drink of its substance. It would be able to cure mortal injury or deadly plague. He named this sacred place the Eternal Bastion.
His ambitions were still grander, but while he was confidant from mortal tampering for a time, making it more potent might draw the attention of the gods. He was not prepared to watch it over for eternity while there was work elsewhere. He raised his hand and pedestal rose from the ground. He called for the lake to begin pouring into the pedestal's basin, and he began his delicate work of shaping and empowering it. The liquid morphed to his will and formed into a singular cell, far larger than any other. In accordance to his design, its out membrane harden until it was like stone. He was even able to etch a symbol into it. Its meaning clear to any god who read it, it was the name Arvum.
He held the stone sphere within his hand. It would be a difficult task for most mortals, as it was larger than the average Homuran's palm. However a god did not truly need appendages to hold an object to them, he stored it away under his verdant cloak. Wielding the orb would mildly increase the health of the wielder. However, its true power was that it would amplify the power of the Eternal Bastion should it ever be returned to its pedestal.
After creating the artifact, the Asclepius Orb, he took some time to consider how to proceed. It was then he heard a familiar voice, "Arvum, your works have not gone unnoticed; you, who Taught Man to Toil, are to be honored. I would give offer unto you a courtyard in my own palace, if only you will cultivate it into a worthy garden..."
Arvum creates the Serene Island, Hortus. It is a large island between the God-Meeting grounds and the eastern continent of Orsus. It is a mostly peaceful place with plenty of food, water and medicine. It also has hot-springs, honey bees, fruit trees and tea trees. Below it is a massive verdant cave system that connects to the ocean and magmatic tunnels. It has glowy cave moss, is dangerous but has some more potent exotics medicines growing it. At the very bottom is the Eternal Bastion, a sacred place with a lake of healing life-substances. He also created the Asclepius Orb to empower it, but removed it so that it didn't draw as much attention while he was away. Arvum then heard the voice of the Monarch calling to him.
Arvum Starting: 13 Ending: 4
-4 to create large island Hortus and a massive cave system beneath it. -2 to create a fertile ecosystem with plentiful food and medicines on Hortus and the caves below it, discounted by cultivation. -2 to create the monument, the Eternal Bastion. Being within it has mild curative properties, but it also has a lake of life substances. Drinking from or submerging yourself in the lake can cure severe mortal wounds and injuries. -1 to create the artifact, the Asclepius Orb. Holding it mildly improves a mortal's health, but its true potential is that it empowers the Eternal Bastion's healing capacity when returned to its pedestal.
A lone bat vertan wandered the northern plains. If he was given a name by the other vertan, he had long forgotten it. He had never relied upon subterfuge, and thus never needed to steal a name from a prey-walker. Having lived within the Forever-Dark, the sun was heavy even upon his mortal guise. He hated that he had to make himself weak and vulnerable, however he stubbornly refused to let the day kill. He refused to waste the precious hours of darkness, but the light had made sleeping difficult for him.
He cursed the other vertan who had driven him from his hunting ground. The myriad swarm thrived within the darkness, however that merely meant that there was more of his kind to try to steal his food away from him. Had he only been stronger, they would be the ones forced to endure this humiliation.
As soon as the day ended, he had reverted to his mighty true form. While walking through the night, he had saw a group of prey-walkers chase after him. It was a preposterous notion that almost made him laugh. Perhaps this new land would be even better than the Forever-Dark. His keen hearing let him them discuss about how easy he was to track, and that perhaps this was a trap. Why would need to bother with such measures.
The one on his horse dismounted, and another huddled up next to him. Perhaps if he had remained on the horse, he would have been able to escape. He remembered that the only other person who dared to try to strike at him also rode one of those animals. They charged forward together, but the beast was smarter than its rider. It reared back, throwing him off and ran away.
They wielded pointy sticks that might be effective against other less vertan, but he flew into the air beyond their pathetic reach. Made if they had waited till day, they could have traded all of their lives to inconvenience him. However, something flew through the air and struck his wing. It hurt and found himself subconsciously descending as his wing began to waver.
The next time, he saw it. One of the prey-walkers had struck him using a strange tool to propel a stone through the air. He had only been able to graze his wings, however that was enough to make remaining airborne difficult. The prideful prey-walker who hurt should be the first to die.
He used the rest of his height to glide towards the slinger. The one who rode a horse tried to stab him with his pointy stick, but he missed and was in placed in front of him. He saw the slinger try to hit him with another stone, but he missed. He broke the wooden impediment with easy, grabbing him with both hands. His fangs clasped around the prey's neck.
The life-force was delicious. His hunger took over, and he began to greedily consume the replenishing energy. It was then he felt something on his back, or in his back. Despite being in the process of consuming a meal, all of his strength was leaving him.
They pulled the pointy stick from his back. It was now two Eidolon who grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away from the prey corpse. When he tried struggling, another hit him over the head with a rock. Eventually, he lost all of the strength to struggle. Despite this, they waited even longer. He started to see blood from where it had escaped him.
One of them eventually volunteered to end him. The others stood a good distance away with their spears, while he approached with a sharpened stone. As he bent down and readied his weapon, he whispered to him, "You went to far north, Bat. But if it is a small comfort, your death aids the myriad swarm."
We follow the perspective of a nameless bat vertan, who thrived terrorize people in the Shadowlands but was forced out by bigger, meaner bat vertan. The hunting party from the Zelen Nation easily tracks him, but was unconcerned. He tried to fly out of the reach of their spears, but their slinger injures his wing so that it is difficult for him to fly. Angry, he glides towards the slinger biting his neck and starting to eat. This distracts him, and they stab him with a spear. The vertan starts loosing his strength and they pull him off the Eidolon he killed. They wait for him to lose his strength, before one of the hunters volunteers to kill him. While he does, he reveals that he is a vertan, and tries to console him that at least his death will help another of his kind.
Marshal Orzen rode up towards where a band were grazing their herd. His spear felt heavier in his hand today. Someone had saw him coming, and the band-leader came out to greet him. He carried a long stick, used to help herd animals and scare off wild animals, however at his age he had used it more to support himself as he walked. He was followed behind by four men, one wielding a spear.
Performing the customary greeting, Orzen locked hands with the band-leader. The marshal nodded his head twice to signal that the other felt joy. In return, the band-leader blinked twice to signal he felt fear, "What troubles you, marshal?"
Two of the men following the band-leader walked around the group, and took the steed away to be tend to. After he watched to make sure they weren't being rough with his horse, he turned back to the elder and answered, "The nation-leader sent me. There has been word that there been intruder attacks in this area. Have you anything unusual, or has anyone new joined your band?"
After a glance from the band-leader, the story-teller step forward. "Two travelers from the south joined us. We ensured that they had did not bleed the foul blood of the intruders. They were separated from the rest of their band by weather and wild animals in the Night Territory. They said shortly before it happen, a beam of light burst from the group and struck the sky. But we all well know that intruders and strange occurrences are common there. Let us thank the ancestors that those two survived the long journey by themselves."
When she said that, every did lower their heads for a moment in reflection. Aftward, Orzen turned his focus back to the story-teller expectedly and she continued, "I must admit that I have not heard about any nearby threats, however we have only recently moved to this area from further east."
Orzen nodded, splitting his attention between the herd-leader and story-teller, "Before I continue to pursue the intruder issue, is there anything else that needs to be addressed?"
The elder tapped his staff against the ground before replying, "It is nothing urgent, but should you find the time could you spread the word that our Gurov band is in need of lumber? We have spare yarn clothe in exchange."
Wool was rather valuable. A small amount of wool could reasonably be exchanged for a large amount of timber, more than most bands this far west would carry. Raw sheep hair was rather plentiful, and was exchanged for a pittance. However it required giving a skilled artisan a sizable amount of time in order to shape it something more than stuffing for your sleeping hide. He wasn't going to pursue the matter. Several bands were as suspicious of the Wooded Territory as the Night Territory.
He nodded in agreement, before turning to the man with the spear, "I presume you are the chief hunter?"
The huntsman nodded. Orzen continued, "Can I ask that you organize your best trackers, and a slinger or two if you have one."
The hunter nodded again, and walked off.
The band-leader ushered him towards the rest of the band, "I am sure that it was a long journey to reach us, I insist that you eat with us and rest before doing something dangerous on our behalf."
Orzen could hardly refuse. While eating, he spoke with the two survivors from the south. They were brother and sister, originally apart of the Four-horn Culture. Apparently, their marshal was harsh on them because the brother refused to fight against his fellow Eidolon. While they didn't compel him directly, the two began to be mistreated. His brother was targeted because his affinity for the sling. He seemed like a good person, and he said that he was excited because his sling would kill a monster instead of another person. It was good that he escaped that senseless violence and joined the Zelen.
He was offered an additional serving, as where everyone who was going out to hunt the intruder. He placed the dried meat in a pouch. The others prodded him about it, but it was not uncommon. A marshal can be alone with their horse for days, and a good one would be prepared.
The Night Lord presence fell upon the ground, and Orzen was the first to sleep. The herd-leader was correct that it was a large journey to reach here, and he expected it might be longer still.
We peak into Northeast Eidolon, and follow a marshal of the Zelen Nation. Orzen was sent to an area because there was rumors of intruders, and meets with a band to see what they know. He then recruits some of the band's hunter to help him track down the monster, and specifically asks for a slinger as well.
There is a slinger from the Four-Horn Culture that was selected. He left with his sister because the two were mistreated for not joining the war effort, despite the brother having excellent aim with a sling. However, they were separated from the band that they were travelling north with by a bolt of energy that shot up from the Night Territory.
It is also established that some textile knowledge has reached the north, however they have to do it by hand and so it takes a lot longer and they can't make anything to big yet. And that while the north has access to wood, there is about as much superstition regarding the Wooded Territory as the Night Territory.
The marshal eats with the band, and goes to sleep.
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GubGar