Gathering
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 7752
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Lord Sithe watched with baited breath as the scene before him unfolded. Another orc, dressed in a ceremonial costume, festooned with feathers and animal remains, stood before the leader of the Horde. He was poised with a bone knife, brandishing the weapon at a goat trussed on a crude stone altar. It was the old Shaman's apprentice, now getting his first chance to please Lord Sithe by reading an augury, to decide the path the Horde should take. The young orc raised the ceremonial knife and slit the throat of the animal before him, letting the blood spill on the altar. As the goat died, he raised the knife again. Down came the knife a second time, now carving into the goat's belly. The young orc drew an ornately carved bone hook from his belt, and began the lengthy process of removing the beast's entrails. The intestines of the goat steamed in the night air as the old Shaman's apprentice prepared them to read the augury. He began the guttural chant in the Orcish language of magick A rather curious apparition appeared above the entrails as the young orc completed the chant, a hovering ephemeral image of a leering brass mask. It spoke. "I sense you, those fallen from grace. The promise to the old ones shall be kept. Do you remember the covenant, leader of the Horde?" Lord Sithe's mouth gaped wide. Never had an augury done this, save in legends told by doddering greybeards. He stammered for a moment, then answered. "Wh-when the Weaver goes mad and the tapestry is torn and tangled...the Redeemer will come...and the covenant will be remembered. As we once fell...so shall we rise...our forms purified to their former glory..." "Very good, he who would lead the Horde to glory. Now name me the name you know me by..." "You are the twice-dead man, he who shall be called Redeemer." "Yes, I am, for you have thus named me. Your faith in old promises will be rewarded." As the brass mask spoke, Lord Sithe became aware that a snake had slithered into the tent. It was poisonous, a black adder. He tried not to show fear as he noticed it crawling towards him. "Take the gift I give you," the brass mask said, and vanished. Lord Sithe watched in horror as the serpent twined around his leg, climbing up his body, and curling in his hands. Suddenly, his hands were aflame, a blue blaze engulfing the snake. When it subsided, the snake was gone, replaced by a lengthy coil of black silk rope. He remembered the tales and realized what he was to do. This was the rope that would bind the black gryphon... It's been millenia since I've actually been frightened. Maybe it's my own fault, though, I had felt so secure before. Maybe I'd started to believe the stories and legends that had blossomed around myself and the other three. Maybe after being supreme for so long, I simply forgot what had brought me here. We weren't always like this, we four. Once, we were as mortal as the basest animal. The world was young, and we wore different faces. It was a chaotic time of warriors and gods, rampant with magic and prophesy. One prophesy overarched all the others. The tangling of the skeins of fate. It was the day which, if not prevented, would change the world forever. The realms of the various races would be separate no more, and the beings walled inside Muspelheim would walk the realms freely. We four were adventurers then, seeking our fortune and glory, for there was much of each to be had in those days. Our dreams were cut short. I still remember the old gypsy woman's dying charge. Or was it a curse? It bound us together, and set our feet on the path we tread today. It took years, but in time, we learned the secret methods of finding the roots of Ygg, and called upon the Norns to aid us in the binding oath the gypsy woman had foisted upon us: To prevent the tangling and avert the prophesy. We were given power, but the power changed us. I was given the book, and thus I became the book. I became the Elder Rule. The others assumed the aspects of their provinces as well. It's strange, I don't remember any of this. I only learn this by reading the book, where the hand of the Norns stops writing and my own takes up the pen. We cast shadows on existance, we four. I am the Elder Rule, and so my form gives birth to endless Rules, personified in kind, number after number. The Primal Urge, my opposite, once my friend, manifests shadows in divine mad gods throughout the cosmos. The shining one, the Higher Cause, bears the template for an entire host of angels. The fourth, the Dark Seed, is the nightmare which inspires all demons. Outside us all lie the Branded. How could I have forgotten about the Branded? How could I have been so lax? I, who am the book? The Branded come because we were unable to prevent this. They bear the burning marks of those who created them, those imprisoned in Muspelheim, and they have a leader in the earthly realm now. The Brazen Man.
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The Traveler
3/17/2000 8:35:37 AM
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