The rise of the Dark side of Nature
Twelve Dark Mirrors:
"RAYLIT’s key messages are Friendship and Tolerance. RAYLIT is the light in the dark, the shade in glare. He brings succour
to the oppressed and makes hardship more tolerable. Being born from two
Opposites, RAYLIT is the bridge between the Extremes. Yet RAYLIT will fight for
what is right and oppose the Intolerable. And I bear with me proof of this!
The light that you and I are standing in comes from the Holy Sapphire, sent by
RAYLIT to destroy Undead - enemy to all life.!"
(Sermon preached by Adnab of
the Keragund at the the Temple of RAYLIT on Earth, 20 XIII 2504 - before the
destruction of the Holy Sapphire of RAYLIT in the fight against the Cold Ghosts)
"Borin the King is coming! Dorin the Traitor will be Pudding!"
(Graffito in Taramkhazâd-Dûm)
"Now the Goblins will learn what it is like to be raided!"
(Harrek Dragonhelm, Lord Protector of the North)
"As the Dark Forest is a state of Madness, much of it is in
the mind."
(Lumbuliel of the Liantelië)
"Take this trophy and look favourably upon our Dream-Hunt!"
(Olórënyello
of the Aldalië to AMON, Demon of Hunting in a Dream after
the Emperor Kyarlin I's hunt in the Imperial Hunting Forest, 18 Destri 2505)
"A balance is needed, but the Empire should be Lawful and the restoration of
its borders is right."
(Alador of Team Phoenix)
"There will be Life after Death, and for some it will come sooner than
they expect."
(From the Creed of OUROBOROS, Demigod of Saurians)
"Once again, Light has triumphed over Dark. But the contest is
never over. For though the Light is stronger in Summer, the Dark will be
stronger in Winter. We have ensured another glorious Autumn, but we must
be as watchful as the heron to ensure the coming of another Spring."
(Titania, Queen
of the Calaquendi at the Heart Grove of Mírlinnyrn, Midsummer's Night 2504)
"We will multiply faster than they can ever kill Us".
(From the Creed of RATTUS, Demigod of Rats)
"A pointless war is the purest sort."
(Mercenaries' saying, attributed variously to, and variously claimed by, ZAKEL, TERRIK and HAERIM)
"After what we have done to our own people to continue this war, how can
the orcs do anything worse to us?"
(The Laughing Prophet, Huhulmo)
"Don't believe everything you see in the Mirror."
(COYOTE, the Trickster Demigod)
Kh'jara, Dreamseer of the Black Sandwalkers, led the black-cloaked and cowled figure down the steps to the lowest dungeon beneath the Black Kasbah, and into the Domain of Depression. His superiors had requested him to grant a Viewing to his mysterious companion, and one did not say no to their requests. He could not hear their guest on the steps behind him or see him (or should that be Him?) in the deep darkness of the chamber below, but he suspected this was a powerful Being w/Who would not have become lost. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard a deep male whisper from in front of him, "Proceed!"
The Dreamseer set up and lit the hookah, requested the other to sit opposite and to relax ,and passed h/Him a mouthpiece. The scent of drug-laden smoke filled the air.
"Honoured guest, what would it be Your pleasure to view?" asked Kh'jara formally, as he emptied and opened his mind.
"The rise of the Dark side of Nature", was the reply.
"Your wish is my command", replied Kh'jara. "Please understand that what are seen here may be past, present or future events. But they may not be true reflections of events in the Real World. We look through the glasses darkly, as an aid to prophecy..."
"I am familiar with the theory," the other cut him off. "Nor do I require tutelage in how to participate. Proceed!"
So Kh'jara began the ritual humming, whilst still puffing on the hookah. Once he felt the trance beginning to take hold, and t/Their slipping into Nightmare as well as Madness, he began the storytelling, maintaining the rhythmn of the humming.
The story was a simple one, proven over many years to be effective to draw others into the Viewing. The Dreamseer outlined a journey through Madness and Nightmare into the dark alleys that thread their way behind the streets of Khalkan-Jho, the City That Never Wakes. Entering the Temple of ORORO by a back door, t/They descended into the Crypt, where t/They stood in their minds' eyes before the Hall of Dark Mirrors, where the Dreamseer made a ritual invocation of the chosen subject; the rise of the Dark side of Nature.
"Observe!" finished Kh'jara. What was revealed to the other, the Dreamseer could not say for sure. But this is what he observed in the twelve Dark Mirrors of his own mind...
The brooding hemlocks crowded close together in the depths of the forest. All were blanketed in deep, cold snow. A heavy snow continued to fall and all was grey and white. If any animals survived, they were huddled in burrows or caves beneath the snow. Yet something moved. Pale shapes flitted between the trees. The snow passed through them. Shapes of men, of gnomes, of wolves and of bears, of werewolves and of werebears, and of shapeless things that crawled and oozed more than they flitted. Here and there the ghosts of men, gnomes and weres carried pale swords that glowed with a cold light. In a seemingly never-ending stream the ghosts passed before the mirror.
Spiders' webs could now be seen between the tree trunks, huge and part-buried by the snow. The torrent of ghosts passed through them and continued on. At their head was the ghost of a small gnome bearing a large, pale mace of light, who seemed to creep along the ground from tree to tree.
As the blizzards eased and the sun at last shone over the high mountains, columns of dwarves began to move across the snowfields. They were thickly wrapped in animal skins, but clearly well-armed and armoured. The viewing point was that of an eagle, hovering high above and scaning the ground for movement.
The eagle might not have been concerned with the pattern, but a person observing could see that the columns were converging upon a hidden valley on a mountainside above a glacier. Climbiing steadily up steps cut into the snowslope, they disappeared amongst a jumble of huge rocks buried in the snow.
As the mind's eye was drawn into those rocks, the viewing point shifted to the roof of a cave - perhaps that of a bat woken from its hibernation by the tramp of marching boots. The column of dwarves, brown-skinned and red-faced as they removed their snow masks, were marching deeper into the cave.
Now the viewing point shifted again, to a deeper cave lit by an eerie bluish light. Perhaps a spider was now observing from its web between the stalactites up in a corner. The dwarves marched on, but several of them (who wore the skulls of animals on their heads, some with horns or antlers) were Casting Spells around the edge of the cave. Amorphous shapes now emerged from pits; black, grey and greenish in the sapphire phosphoresence, and started crawling alongside the marching column, followed by some of the Spellcasters. Standing by the exit from this cave into the darker depths beyond were a group of hardened warriors. One wore a simple crown of a bright, silvery metal and each of the marching dwarves bowed his head to this one as he passed.
Emerging in a Stone Circle, looking from one of the stones towards the central altar, it was night and a light snow was falling. Wolfish howls rent the air; from the throats of true wolves, from the mouths of goblins capering around the altar dressed in wolfskins and from the throats of creatures somewhere in between the two. Torches burned at the four corners of the altar, to which was tied a human female; naked and bloody from claw marks. She was Norse, by the look of her, young but not especially pretty (not that goblins could tell or cared) and appeared to be unconscious or drugged. Whatever ritual was taking place did not require her to be a virgin, judging by what the participants were taking turns in doing to her.
Then the clouds parted and a Full Moon shone down upon the scene. The woman's body writhed and began to change, causing her current rapist to come in ecstasy. He was quickly pulled away, as others fought for their turn. The woman now assumed a lupine form, opened her eyes and howled louder than the rest. Ripping free of her bonds, she kicked her next rapist away and bounded off the altar.
As she stood there howling at the moon, a flash of silver thudded into her face between her eyes. A splash of blood and she went down. It took the other participants a few seconds to realise what had happened amidst the general mayhem, and several more of them fell before they did. They now let off a collective howl of rage and charged off to engage their attackers.
A robed and masked goblin now emerged from hiding behind the altar. Chanting and praying, he Cast a Spell on the fallen she-werewolf. As he raised his arms, a ghostly were-form emerged from her body. It immediately darted towards him, but he stared it down and it halted. Turning, it now drifted after the others, as the goblin priest stepped over the body and followed cautiously behind.
A small party of orcs moved carefully through a dense forest of spruce. The snow cover was less beneath the tree canopy and undergrowth struggled to survive here, but the branches were low and going was difficult. Wrapped in furs, they hacked their way onwards with their weapons. The female clutched a baby to her breast, protecting it as well as she could from the cold, and an older child clung to her fur coat.
The spruce forest was hard going, so they turned and slid and scrambled down a bank. As they forded a snow-buried stream bed at the bottom of the bank the light changed, as if a dark cloud had obscured the sun, or perhaps MIRIMI had eclipsed CAERULAS. This was not a problem for the orcs, of course. But ahead the undergrowth looked denser and thornier, though the trees seemed closer together. The lead orc cursed and looked back the way they had come. However the bank looked steep and difficult for the children and the trees behind now looked no more inviting than those ahead, so he spat out the root he had been chewing on, and waved the party forward.
It was now colder as well as darker. The baby cried and its mother tried to hush it. But something had been alerted, and shapes moved in the bushes. The lead orc gave a hand signal to his brothers in arms, and they adopted defensive positions, bows at the ready. One shot off an arrow at a target only he could see.
Huge black cats with baleful green eyes and tusk-like fangs leapt out of the shadows at the orcs. A few seconds' fighting, a scream from the child, and it was over.
The sabre-toothed cats growled again, and started fighting over the choicer bits of orc meat.
Torches spluttered in the darkness. Moving closer to the dim, flickering red light a wide circular space emerged, with tiers of seats rising all around it. In many of those seats reclined the ghostly spirits of the Undead, their baleful eyes gazing down on the Arena floor. There lay the bodies of many creatures: wild animals, Monsters and a few People. The bodies shifted and flickered with the firelight in and out of existence, replaced by others.
From out of the darkness came a ghostly procession of man and wolf-like creatures. Followed by two People in black robes and cowls, they descended steps through the tiers of seats, joined by Ghosts from the spectators, and entered the Arena. A couple of ape-like creatures looked up from where they had been foraging amongst the flickering bodies. They had broad chests, narrow waists, long arms and legs with curved claws and curling tails.
Twelve portcullises were spaced evenly around the bloodstained wall around the Arena and beneath the seats. Most of the portcullises were closed, but the procession headed for an open one. A wolf-like howl emerged from one. The wolf ghosts in the procession howled eerily back as they glided into that exit and disappeared from view.
The ape-monsters looked at each other, abandoned their meal and scampered after them.
The Arena now faded away like the bodies on its floor. The portcullises were replaced by a circle of black stones, the tiers of seats by a forest of cobwebbed oak trees wth sharp, saw-like leaves and the sandy Arena floor by very dark green grass. The bodies of fierce creatures were replaced by the bodies of stags and boars, butchered and beheaded. On a central stone altar the antlered head of a large stag glowed whitely. A Giant Spider watched from the shadows as a pair of High Elves in dark green cloaks were painting a rune on one of the stones, using the blood from a fallen deer and the feather of an eagle.
As they completed their design, the howls of wolves energed from the stone. The elves looked at each other, and then disappeared into the oak trees, carefully avoiding the webs.
The first rays of the morning sun pierced the mists, revealing twin spires of rock dusted with snow. On top of each of these pinnacles perched a winged horse with an eagle's head, on the backs of which sat armoured men wrapped in furs holding long barbed lances aloft. Each lance had a pennant showing an eagle's head like that of their mounts and the riders had wing-like decorations of feathers on their backs.
As the mist burned off further, banners were revealed around the craggy outcrop beneath the two pinnacles: wolves, bears, cats with tufted ears, oxen, dragons, fish, horses and ravens were all prominent. These were held aloft by a crowd of warriors, who let out a great cheer as two bare-chested fighters strode out onto the flat space atop the crags between the two horn-like pinnacles. Further winged riders were mounted on suitable perches elsewhere round the rocks.
One of the two fighters had a tattoo of a leaping salmon on his back and wielded a serrated spear. The other had a black wing design tattooed on his back and wore a strange helmet topped by a dead raven. He twirled two axes. As the fish-tattooed man bowed to the crowd to acknowledge their applause, the raven-headed one threw an axe at his head. Taken by surprise, the former went down, and despite the lightness of the wound to his head, did not get up.
The crowd erupted in outrage and cheers, and some started fighting over whether their bets were valid. The raven fighter retrieved his axe, beheaded his opponent with the other and held the head aloft. A cloud passed over the sun.
Towards the back of the crowd a tall, blond-haired man in leather armour and a brown cloak nodded to his companions. Looking carefully around them as they left, this small team of adventurers moved away from the crowd of barbarians and back into the morning mist.
The mist was thicker here, and CAERULAS' rays barely penetrated it. In its midst was a ring of huts thatched with reeds, standing on wooden stilts above the water. People were up and about. They were dressed in loincloths or short, sleeveless dresses, revealing greenish-grey skin. Their dark grren hair was long, but worn tied back. The men were preparing boats and sharpening spears, whilst the women checked the nets, prepared breakfast or shouted at the children to behave.
Dark shapes erupted out of the misty water. They were manlike, but had scaly skin, pointed jaws with sharp teeth and ridges of spines on their backs and tails. They wielded tridents, spears and nets, which they used to attack the greenish humans. There were almost fifty of them against half that number of men, women and children, and the fight was quickly over.
The lizards feasted on the bodies of the humans and wrecked their boats and village, which was soon burning from the overurned cooking fires. As the flames began to spread, the attackers dived back into the water, and were gone - swallowed up again in the fog.
Crocodiles now moved in to finish off what was left of the villagers.
Snowmelt ran down a bare and boggy hllside. Just below the receding snowline was a circle of twelve standing stones with a central altarstone, from beneath which a spring bubbled up. The figures of animals were carved upon the stones: big cat, coyote, bear, raven, eagle, buffalo, deer, scorpion, snake, lizard, rat, owl and a heron upon the altarstone, which looked much newer than the others.
The sodden ground was strewn with pools and puddles, all of which were swimming with tadpoles. As the last of the ice melted away in the weak Spring sunshine, the first of the tadpoles begain to crawl out of their spawning pools. Soon thousands of small toads were hopping about the stone circle.
Further down the infant stream a heron took flight from a clump of bushes. It headed away downstream in search of fish, leaving the toadlets to claim its totem stone.
The swarm of rats scuttled up the mountainside. Rain fell, washing away the last of the snow. Ahead an orc sentry raised the alarm, and the orcs rushed to the parapets to defend their trenches. They loosed off crossbow bolts and hacked with swords and axes, but the rats just kept coming.
Behind the initial wave of rodents came the weres. Half goblin, half rat, they snarled with anger as they leapt for their enemies' throats. The orcs were now too busy fighting off the initial wave of rats to be able to get off silver crossbow bolts against the weres, which rampaged their way through the defenders.
The outpost was soon taken. In the falling rain and low cloud the next position could not be seen, but the sound of more orcs could be heard coming along the ridge for a counterattack. One of the weres let off a shriek, and the rat swarm abandoned the bodies it was gnawing upon and scampered back down the slope, disappearing into the rain and mist.
The lead orcs returned to the outpost, crossbows at the ready. Cursing, they lowered them on seeing the rats were gone.
A plain of black dust stretched as far as could be seen. Two dust clouds moved across it. The larger one moved across the wind, which blew the dust to one side, revealing a small army of orcs marching with banners depicting the usual death's heads and crosses of ALTIS. The other came from downwind and slightly behind the army, obscured from the orcs by their own windblown dust.
The orcs had rags wrapped round their faces against the scouring dust, or had the visors of their helmets down. But they had scouts all around their force, so were still able to sound the alarm when the second dustcloud closed. But it was too late to establish an effective shield-wall and the Giant Scorpions were onto them before they were ready.
Each mounting a black-robed figure, the Giant Scorpions ripped into the orcish army. Their riders impaled orcs with their spears and Cast Spells of Pain and Death. One or two of the Scorpions went down under the force of numbers, but most pincered and stabbed their way straight through the column and out of the other side.
The orcs now panicked and broke. Their officers' cries went unheard as it became each orc for himself. This of course made them easy prey for the Scorpions, which ran them down and tore them apart with relish. The orcs' only hope was that there were too many of them fleeing in all directions for the Scorpion riders to be able to catch them all. But the survivors were running blindly into a barren ash desert.
It was night and the mist rolled in off the river to a village of stone huts thatched with reeds. More Lizard Men crept out of the water and moved slowly towards the village. Behind them came orcs, but with tails and webbed hands and feet.
Weapons at the ready, the Lizard Men and Sahuagin entered the village. Then they stopped short in surprise at the sight of the villagers. Half a dozen skeletons of humans staggered towards them down what passed as a main street. Cursing, one of the Sahuagin Cast a Spell at the skeletons, which turned and lurched off in the opposite direction. The Lizards pursued, hacking at other skeletons which appeared from side streets.
The Sahuagin followed the Lizard Men, their Cleric Turning the skeletons when necessary. They kicked down doors, and explored houses, apparently finding nothing unusual other than the skeletal inhabitants. None of them noticed the large scarab beetles scuttling about in the shadows.
From the tower of a small castle on a nearby hill a cadaverous human figure dressed in a shroud-like robe looked out into the darkness in the directtion of the village, waggling his skeletal fingers in time with the legs of the scarabs.
The tower rose up out of the dead-looking trees. All was dark, and only the eerie phosphoresence above the swamp provided any light. The tower was semi-ruined and the crumbling spires of rock at its top gave it the appearance of two horns.
It was built on a slight rise above the surrounding marsh. At its foot ghostly shapes drfited about; of men, gnomes, wolves, bears, rats and weres. Amorphous ghostly shapes oozed and slithered in the swamp. In the air above the tower wheeled strange winged creatres, which were not altogether crows, nor moles, nor buzzards, nor ants, nor decomposed humans.
A chamber at the top of the tower was partly open above and on one side, where the roof and a window had respectively collapsed. Diseased-looking ivy climbed around the walls and across the floor. In a rubble-free space on the floor was a crude table made of fallen, partly-rotted roof timbers on top of blocks of stone. On the table was a sheet of vellum, held in place by small rocks - twelve of them arranged in a circle.
The rocks were crudely carved into shapes: a bear, a pudding, a wolf, a cat, a spider, a bird, a dragon, a toad, a rat, a scorpion, a beetle and a composite creature like the Su or Byakhee already seen in this Viewing. Between them an intricate pattern was marked out on the vellum in what appeared to be blood. It formed a web of lines between the stones and other points, some of the lines scribbled over.
Hooded figures stepped out of the shadows around the edges of the chamber. One made a gesture, and the Viewing ended.
As far as he could tell, Kh'jara was now alone in the Viewing Chamber. But now he thought about it, there was something about the gesturing figure in that last Mirror that reminded him of his erstwhile guest...
Players should submit their plots for the months of Destri and Kemel 2505 and experience claims for Destri 2505.
For the latest news and all the detail from the Season So Far, remember to visit the rumourmonger.
© P.R. Wild, 3 May 2011
Check the Headlines again
Read the previous News
Read the next News
Back to Temple of DALA