Strange Rodent — Roleplayer Guild

Eurysthenes watched Vakk leave, victory in its bones. Vakk was willing to butcher himself to be let from This One’s grasp. When it saw the tentacle fall, it knew it had power. It also knew there would only be a matter of time before Vakk showed up again, angrier and more vicious. All the more easy to madden. In the meantime, however, there was peace and quiet. The serenity of madness filled the Infinite Maze, and Eurysthenes began to calm itself, but then there was a brilliant flash of light.

The radiance of it was blinding and so powerful that it burned, so enduring and overwhelming that the barely reflective walls were as mirrors and the entire maze shone as if built from bricks of gleaming gold, and the air reverberated with power like the inside of a drum.

One inescapable word reverberated through the Sphere.

”Come.”

The light dimmed such that its unquenchable power dulled just enough to permit one’s senses to function again, and then Eurysthenes perceived a rift that had been slashed into the fabric of reality in the place where this explosion of light had originated. The portal beckoned.

It considered the irony in how Vakk also left this sphere by way of a not so dissimilar portal. But curiosity overtook apprehension. After all, this was a thing in its own sphere which it didn't understand, giving orders, even. Yet this voice was familiar. Gripping and weighty, with all the authority a boulder may have to a beetle. 

So, of course, there was no choice but to step through.

Once again, Eurysthenes was in that place. The great flooded hall with the shattered ceiling, dominated by great columns as mighty as mountains and by a simple throne of straight-edged stone that nonetheless was laden with divinity. And though the throne was vacant, the Old Old One’s gaze was still upon Eurysthenes; it had never wavered and never would. The tingling and paralyzing effect of that stare came from all around, and so it was overpowering.

Yet the Architect’s throne was empty!

It's more unnerving than surprising. It was strange for This One; being unable to figure it out. This is truly the defining thing to separate the Architect from the rest of existence. The Enigma which covered him, as clouds cover sky, or as smiles cover intentions. For a while, Eurysthenes says nothing. It merely basks in the unending knowledge that, when faced with this, it didn't matter. Nothing did. It was all okay, unless the decision that it wasn't was made. By this Architect that could control everything.

”What?...” it asked. That was the only word spoken, though it was clear just how much was meant by it. Not merely a grunt of confusion, this was a question of all at once. The question of questions.

As if in answer, the grey rock of the throne pulsed gently with a warm and inviting glow. It was a sirenic and malevolent lure just like the monster fish spawned by Orvus. This One stepped forward. This was not something that should be walked toward, so it caught itself mid-step. It wanted to continue. Desperately. But should it? It knew it should stop, and quickly. But should it?

It gave a mental jerk to try and find something to say, but all that escaped was a high whine that tore the silence as if it were thin fabric. On and on it droned, becoming part of the ambiance. 

”Why…?” it asked.

”Is it not what you want?”

Reality warped like the rippling surface of a puddle, and suddenly there was a sense of scope that was imposed upon the world and all around. This entire throne room was but a mote of dust, a meaningless speck reflected in the unimaginable vastness of a singular black eye.

The Architect’s voice rang out again. Louder, this time, with an anger in it that had not been there since Seihdhara had foolishly challenged him, it boomed, ”Knowingly or not, you have overstepped.”

”When…?” This One asked, folding itself in confusion, intrigue, and despair.

Another step forward, heavy and sluggish. Every movement debated and fought, but occurring nonetheless. Advancing closer to the colossal eye burned, like soaring headlong toward the fiery light of Heliopolis. As Eurysthenes drew close to the throne, it dissolved into a mass of filth and writhing worms.Other illusory objects manifested, and it was as though the god’s sanity had been a spool of thread that had been unwound and tossed over the hills and into the horizon. As if it saw something in these worms, or this madness revealed something, This One found something to latch onto.

It reached into this throne, found it, and twisted it. The filth became teeth, and they wound up and around, filling the space with their ever expanding whiteness. Eurysthenes mirrored this. Every piece of it became a small tooth, one by one, until from head to toe it gleamed and bristled. Each tooth leaked a pearly liquid, trickling to and mingling with the water. 

”Of Vakk? That was what some might call “only”. It was merely cold. Something to be served when others are biting,” it said. There was an attempt, a feeble hope that this would confuse or convince the Architect.

Then, by some unknowable command that Eurysthenes hadn’t even conceived much less muttered, the illusory teeth of its conjuration became black and cracked. There was pain (though a false, detached sort) that radiated from them as they burst like sacs of black pus. ”Vakk? A mere distraction! THIS is your crime that offends me so!”

All of the surroundings flashed a blinding light as each of the two tried to bend reality to manifest itself into the conflicting shapes of the illusions that they’d conjured, and for a second there was a bleak grey room with that housed only some decrepit skeleton, and then they were back in the throne room and the Architect was visible once more, in his proper place. It looked as though he hadn’t even moved since all the younger gods had been cast out from his palace and into the world, and indeed, he hadn’t.

A long, spindly finger pointed accusingly at Eurysthenes. ”This power is mine, and mine alone. Whether out of woeful ignorance or fevered dreams of grandeur and outright rebellion, you have tried to usurp me. There can be only One who holds this power, little god,” the Architect spoke, not through words but the unflinching stare of his eye.

The black pus thinned and coalesced, forming a terribly accurate mirror image of the Architect. Every slight movement was copied, every tiny little noise cloned. The pus enwreathed this form, becoming it. Veins in the eye, wrinkles on the arm, the presence of it. The clear pus collapsed, leaving a carbon copy of The Architect in the center of the room.

”I can’t hold this power forever though. There is not enough strength left in me. Not enough to defend the least of my powers,” said the Architect. Which one, it was unclear: they may as well have been one and the same. Eurysthenes, the little god, looked up. 
“Your creed is theft. It is inflated, overblown. There is no demand, no want, no longing, but for more. Your creed is theft. From the many below your wide presence. From those with less. Your creed chills, steals, kills, heals. What is your creed?”

In a flash the false likeness of the second Architect disappeared, leaving only the true one upon his throne. There was hardly even a moment of contemplation before the resounding answer came, ”Greed. Greed is the answer to your puzzle.”

There was silence, almost as if the Architect were about to respond with a riddle of its own, but that would have hardly been fair. Eurysthenes had yet to even solved the first riddle that it had been given, the greatest riddle of them all--why had the Architect brought it into existence?

”And though it is not greed to claim what is mine, in the end it matters not what you think to call it, nor whether you object! This power over over the Imaginary is mine alone!”

For emphasis on that last word, all of the throne room began to glow with a brightness too potent to be defied, too unyielding and overwhelming to be bent into illusions.

”Architect of This Place,” Eurysthenes said, ”this power may be truly yours, but what is the harm of sharing? What ill will come from allowing me to wield this weird power? Behold what I have already brought with it: The half-continent of Swahhitte, and justice to Vakk. A small list, but mighty, and a demonstration of what is to come,” it said. The oddly direct words fought, almost like they willed themselves to not exist at the hands of Eurysthenes. Regardless, it said them anyway, no matter the struggle. 

It reached out with an overlong arm, and twisted upwards to be on eye level with the Architect. Some realization seemed to dawn inside the black void of the ancient’s eye. There was suddenly silence, and stillness. Until that moment it had been hard to notice, so demanding of awe and attention was the Architect’s presence, but the entire palace had been violently shaking. Now, the ground of the rocky island and the great expanse of water around settled and there was a silence that lasted for eternity.

Then, judgement. ”For this transgression, there will be a price. All of your divine kindred owe their loyalty and servitude to me, for granting them their power and their existence, but now you especially so. I decree that your repentance shall come from the fulfillment of three tasks: firstly the taking of an oath, that your service be now and forevermore eternal and absolute, then the acceptance of a charge to safeguard the Core, for within it lies the Pillar the Holds the World and in my foresight I have seen one that will try to meddle with it and who must be stopped, and finally the the finding of the wisest of all creatures upon Galbar, and your returning it here to my feet. Agree to these terms, and you may be spared. What say ye? Speak.”

Eurysthenes was baffled for the second time ever.

In its halting and clicky voice, it said ”I swear, your Grandness, that from now until I die, go mad, lose my memory, am paralyzed, or any other number of unforeseeable futures, that I will serve you in guarding the Core and whatever else you see fit, swearing this oath, offer relevant advice, and future tasks within my capabilities,”  a pause, a brow furrowed, ”However. I swore into advice, and I mean to live up to this now. Wisdom is an old man that has run too much of its course. It is the idea that looked better in your head. Instead, let me bring to you the most confounding creature.” It spread its arms in a gesture of openness and made a sound of questioning.

The Architect seemed to give a slight, almost imperceptible nod of his head, but the gigantic eye that dominated half of it remained as unblinking and untelling as ever. ”I care little for the anomalous or the nonsensical; it is in wisdom that the creature’s worth must be measured. You will do as I instructed, and not think to question me again!”

This One stood stock still for a second before its shoulders said a quick, “Oh well.”

”Then I swear that, also. But to question is to defy. Here, I was--” Eurysthenes tried to explain, but the Eye silenced it, and then gripped it so tightly that it dared not even wriggle.

”You are dismissed, Eurysthenes,” the Architect decreed, and the little god was once more within his own sphere.

Eurysthenes gloats in its sphere after having messed with Vakk. But then there’s suddenly a really bright light and a portal, and Archie is there yelling at Eurysthenes from his living room and telling him to get in there. Eury goes through the portal. 

Archie starts half yelling, half mentally assaulting Eury. There’s a magic duel of sorts with the two of them both conjuring various illusions; many of Eurysthenes attempts are stifled, and in the end Archie is able to dispel all of the illusions. Eury is very confused about what’s happening, but eventually manages to piece together that the Architect is also a god of illusions, and he’s mad about having his Portfolio grabbed!

Riddle. Archie figures out the answer. In uncharacteristic candor, Eury forces itself to speak normally and plainly, proposing to Archie.

Archie agrees with some stipulations.

None spent, ya nerds

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The Great Beyond, where bad riddles and lions abound
=====================

”Then I swear that, also. But to question is to defy. Here, I was giving, adding, and engaging. Or attempting to.”

”This place, and the purpose of it. What is it? A way to allow others a glimpse at you. A way to ease burden, allow laughter, and show one truly cares. A way to hurt those closest to you, while drawing them closer. A way to show us. Again, I ask, what is the purpose of this place?”

“There is a place darker and more horrifying than all others, one can see it--it is a black and bottomless void that could devour all that shines in its insatiable hunger. One can feel it--it is a haunting whisper that echos in every mind and reverberates in the heart. One can know it--it is the phlogiston that fuels ruin, a force that can consume mortals and topple even gods. What is it?”
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