Xenthos: The Wyrden Glory

The altar to the Wyrd.
It is quite mild. This wide clearing is ringed with trees, black and imposing against the sky. Around the perimeter are seven entry points, each marked with cairns of varying heights at the compass points, with a space directly south noticeably empty. Directly overhead is only open sky. Towards the south is a low altar wreathed in living shadow, its dark pall casting a gloom around the area even in the daylight. Upon the altar's surface a symbol of five interwoven loops overlaid with a single circle is deeply carved, and flowing within the symbol an oily substance, glistening and shining, the essence of the Wyrd itself. Beyond this, a blackened haematite vessel, wide and round and shallow is filled with the same oily substance, black as tar, but emitting the heady smell of rose and musk. A faint purple mist hangs low upon the ground here. Hidden deep within the environment lies a mystic pathway. A marjoram bush flourishes here, spreading its delicate scent. A sedge of galingale is firmly planted in the forest floor. Sprays of chervil cover the forest floor. Lovely coltsfoot carpets the forest floor. Kiyan Darkeye stands here, his grey eyes pensive. At the edge of the clearing, a large stone dais spanning four tiers has been erected. Wisps of pale smoke drift from the earthen bowl placed atop a plain rock altar. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. A mature rowan tree stands proudly here. A leopard lurks in the shadows, curiously watching anything that moves. Nothing more than a puffball with cerulean eyes, a seal lynx point ragdoll kitten lies here lounging languidly. A sleek black crow is here, feathers occasionally rustling as she observes her surroundings. A caliginous leopard is languidly grooming herself here, her tail idly flicking back and forth. Umbral Evoker Gael An'Ryshe, Vicar of the Cult is here. Drenched in blood, a midnight-eyed savage lingers here appraising her surroundings. Aisha has a look of comprehension here. She wields an athame dagger in her left hand. Clad in matte black leather, a golden-eyed savage lingers here like a living shadow. Listener of the Silent Knell, Illyria An'Ryshe is here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Very well, I believe we can begin."

With several beats of her wings, Evette alights upon Ilistala, an enormous leopard's shoulder.

Gael offers Ilistala, an enormous leopard a single scritch between her ears, then turns his attention to Xenthos.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "This tale begins a long, long time ago, during the era of the Vernal Wars. The Soulless Gods and the Vernals fought back and forth, poisoning the very land and rendering most of this world uninhabitable. Each battle led only to escalation - developing ever more powerful tools of war."

Aisha remains under the rowan nearby, taking flight to sit on the branch nearest the dais. She clasps her hands together at her lap and brings her attention fully on Xenthos as he begins.

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land in utter darkness.
It is now the 5th of Roarkian, 624 years after the Coming of Estarra.
There are 9 days until the New Moon

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "One such tool was developed on behalf of Crazen, the Soulless God who found a way to dominate the entire Krokani race. He made the leaders of these krokani His generals, and called them the Goloths. Each was a being of extraordinary power, and as a group they were able to challenge and fight the Vernal Gods themselves. And one of these Goloths, named Maxyenka, researched and utilized this tool - called, apppropriately enough, the Wheel of the Goloths."

Floating in the air, a giant wheel appears. It turns, slowly, and as it does flickers of other times and realities can be seen flashing between its spokes.  Odd creatures, strange vistas, things which seem to defy comprehension appear and vanish once again.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "This Wheel allowed for the manipulation of Time itself. Maxyenka was able to use it to travel back and forth, to rally their armies - known as the Dominators. These armies fought on Crazen's behalf, enslaving the aslaran race to their service while attempting to subdue those still remaining free."

The expanse of the Gray Moors fills the air, the castle of krokani looming large - and whole.  Within, the Goloths can be seen, gathered around a table heatedly debating something.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Djarrakh, one of the Goloths, had a vast hatred for the aslaran race. He was not alone in this, and Maxyenka theorized that their hatred had fed back into the mind of Crazen - that this was why Crazen's one, all-consuming goal was the elimination of the Aslaran race, and expressly that of Shanth, one of the Vernal Gods who later became a part of Avechna. Shanth was, you see, a Vernal of the Aslaran race."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And Shanth used that rage to lure Crazen into a trap, becoming the only Vernal God to ever defeat and trap a Soulless entirely on Their own, without any assistance."

Comprehension flashes across Aisha's face.

Another brief vision - a vast, malevolent force chasing after a flickering aslaran. Each step made by this aslaran is a leap across vast distances, flickering from spot to spot, and yet the Soulless god never wavers in its single-minded pursuit.  Until, suddenly, it is gone.  Only the barest sign of a deep pit remains, a trap into which the Soulless God has fallen and becomes bound.

This transforms back to the Castle Djarrakh in the Moors, where the arguing Goloths suddenly are seized by some sudden malady.  They begin to fall, dying, each and every one of them, almost like marionettes with strings cut. Maxyenka, in a panic, throws himself into the Wheel of the Goloths to save his existence - and all the rest perish.

Three beings gather around the Wheel, staring at it in dismay and then looking to each other.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "The Goloths had their own lieutenants, and Maxyenka's three decided to take up his cause. They had some understanding of the Wheel's function, though without Maxyenka and Crazen its use was severely restricted. They took up the name of Time Dames, and seized control of the Dominator armies. And then they began their work."

Aisha's focuses on the depiction, the depictions of the fallen Goloths drawing the tiniest grin to curl her lips.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "They found that they could never visit the past. That was beyond their ability. They could only look forward. And then, further consternation - whenever they interacted with a future stream of time, everything prior to that point was also locked to them. This was a one-way trip, and they could not correct for any mistake they made."

Flickers of different times pass - small groups of dominators fighting tae'dae cavaliers, and being consistently rebuffed, as the Dames grow ever more frustrated.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And now, the story takes a different turn - for you may have been wondering what this has to do with the Wyrden Glory. We will take this fork of the journey instead, for one can discover what happened to the Time Dames and their plans from other sources."

As the Wheel is used, tiny cracks in the fabric of reality itself begin to form.  With each subsequent use, these cracks grow ever wider, more dangerously threatening.

Illyria lays her head gently on Gael's shoulder, entwining her fingers with Gael's.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "The Dames realized that their ability to use the Wheel was now limited. It was becoming harder and harder to control and they only had a few more intersections with reality that they could attempt before they could manage it no longer. And thus, they chose all-out war. They flooded into the Basin of Life on separate occasions, attacking and attempting to seize control before being rebuffed."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And then..."

The storm clouds turn a deep, dark black and the downpour batters you with the force of a waterfall.

isha yoinks her wings shut and her cloak around her as rain pelts down.

The Glomdoring Forest sprawls in the air before you.  Vast, majestic.  The dark boughs sway in a soft breeze, the wind rippling through the woods.  All is quiet - until the Wheel appears in the air above the Forest, commanded by one of the Time Dames.  From it floods a horde of dominators.  They keep coming, a never-ending tide which crashes upon the surprised inhabitants.

But it does not take long for resistance to form. Small bands begin to cut down the Dominators, and then they gather into a larger force. The invading army is pressed back, and though more of them continue to pour through the Wheel, it is not enough.  They perish, each and every one of them, their blood seeping into the Forest's floor and feeding the hungry roots

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "But then, as Stepasha the Time Dame sought to escape, the unthinkable happened - the Wheel was captured, and crashed into the Forest, directly in its heart. Stepasha fled, abandoning her artifact, and now stuck in that period of time, cut off from her allies. And then... the Glomdoring possessed an ancient artifact from the Vernal Wars."

The residents of the Forest gather around it, peering at the artifact with curiosity - and some, perhaps, with a bit of alarm.  The Wheel sits, its power inactive now.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And then, Lord Nocht came to inspect the Glomdoring's prize."

The night sky spans above, the thick trees blocking even sight of the stars here. A figure shrouded in robes appears, its aura of power unmistakeable as the Glomdoring's residents make way for Him.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "He pondered the Wheel for a time, and then He said that His child, Mother Night Herself, felt something calling to Her. He decided to venture within, and as He did, Brother Crow came circling around - drawn by the same feeling. Together, all three of Them ventured within."

The figures vanish into the Wheel, yet nothing happens.  The gathering watches for a time, before slowly dissipating after days pass.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And thus it was, for some time. Until, eventually, a strange visitor came to the Forest."

Xenthos proudly shows off a sketch of God:
He is a radiant immortal and is of diminutive size, barely of the height of an adolescent elfen. Lithe in figure, what can be seen of His skin reveals a darker complexion of blackish hues, flecked occasionally with deeper shades of purple. Bandages conceal His upper arms and bind His torso, calves and thighs, as well obscuring the lower section of His face. Long locks of dark hair fall from behind another strip of cloth that is bound at the top of his forehead and along his hairline, pushing much of it back and out of His face, though a few strands hang down before His left eye, half-hiding one of His two clear, bright red eyes. Lengths of loose bandaging hang away from Him, rippling and swaying on the currents of shadowy, fire-like energy that swell and dissipate in rhythmic flows, caressing Him with each rise and fall of power. He is wearing bandages that obscure much of Him, a scabbard of white silk and a scabbard of black silk.

Gael's good ear gives a sudden twitch, rising and lowering quickly.

A caliginous leopard flattens her ears back upon her head.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "A Divine with no name, and wrapped fully in bandages from head to foot. Yet, Brother Crow rode on His shoulder."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "By this token, we knew He was of the Glomdoring. But little else could be gleaned. He spoke with us, seemed as if He was attempting to get to know the Forest, just as any other Divine who had returned from the Void. So we spoke with Him, shared with Him that which we thought a new member of the Glomdoring's pantheon might require."

Xenthos purses his lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as he carefully gathers his thoughts.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "But all was not as we thought."

The view of the Glomdoring changes now, closing in on the forest at the swamp's edge.  In it, a being resembling Xenthos can be seen, though it is a younger version, still with both its burning red eyes. He can be seen in conversation with a small faeling.  And then... a ripple through the form of the Shadowlord, a brief moment where he seems to almost have vanished.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "It felt like reality had skipped, I had missed a beat. It was the most bizarre of experiences, but I quickly shook it off. We've all felt strange things - this, I assumed, was just another in a long list of them. Something to note, but not something to panic about."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And yet. These moments, over the following months, kept happening. And, worse, the time between them kept growing shorter and shorter. It was clear that something was seriously wrong."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And then, our visitor came to us. He asked if I had been feeling anything amiss, and I agreed that I had and asked if He might know the reason. "Yes," He replied, and then revealed Himself - Xynthin. The Wyrden Glory."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "This was... shocking, to say the least. For we all well knew who Xynthin was, and he was no God. He - was me. That was my name, for a time, when I became a True Ascendant after the Trials of Ascension were overcome."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And I had never been a God."

Musingly, Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "So how could this be?"

Slowly, another image appears - an even younger version of Xenthos, wandering through what are clearly the Razine Mountain ranges.  As he moves, a faint outline of... something... appears just before him, but before any details can be discerned a flying high-heeled shoe whizzes into the view and smashes into his head, instantly pulping it in a splatter of blood and brains.

Aisha blinks.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "I was wandering around, tending to some things, and found myself suddenly quite dead. I had no idea why - but Lady Estarra shouted that I had done... 'something,' and henceforth would be known as my old name, Xenthos, once more."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "None of us knew what that something might have been until decades later... when Xynthin came to the Glomdoring. And that shoe, flung by the Creatrix Herself, was a branch in realities. In the reality Xynthin came from, there was no shoe. What he had found was a rift, and... well, he decided to explore it."

A shift back to the Razine mountain ranges, where the same Xenthos-looking figure is not struck by a shoe but instead encounters a portal.  He ponders it for a few moments, looks around, and then simply jumps into it.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Unbeknownst to him, this was one of the cracks formed by the use of the Wheel of Goloths - and this crack took him back in time, to the era shortly after the very first Ascension. When Soll, who became Lord Ayridion, still was a God. Before the Threshold Abyss had been created."

Evette's hands become a blur as she twists and turns an anomalous puzzle hyperpyramid until each side is made up of the same colour, solving the puzzle in mere moments. Her eyes take on a glossy appearance as she begins to stare off into the aether.
Incandescent light erupts from the thin lines connecting the puzzle together. The light swells, pulsating in a dazzling display of oscillating colours as it sweeps the shadowy outline of Evette into the ether.
A tenebrous leopard disappears into her surroundings as she silently prowls away.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And so, he wondered what would happen if he approached the Throne of Nature in the Domoth Realms - for he was a True Ascendant of Nature. It turns out that very little did. But, Lord Ayridion has ascended through the Seal of Life, and I - we - had won the Trial of Life many times over. The Life Throne knows us well. So... he decided to visit that instead, and it accepted him. He shed his Ascendant form and became a God in truth."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "But one thing this knewly created God knew - if the Threshold Abyss was formed, He would lose His divinity once more. And He did not wish to do so. So He stopped it. In that reality, the Abyss never came to be."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "In our reality, the Abyss was formed because of the wars driven by the Soulless God Muud, who wished to claim the Domothean energies for himself and gain the immense power therein. The Abyss destroyed the bridge that would have allowed him access... but in a reality where it didn't exist?"

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Xynthin thought he could keep Muud from attaining his goal. And, for a time, He did. But - the wars continued, and the mortal races were pressed ever further back."

Flashes of each Nexus of Power appear, and then are shown being destroyed - torn asunder, splintered beyond repair.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Each organization was slowly being overwhelmed by the forces of Muud as he grew ever stronger. And they were forced to develop new ways to fight back. They were no longer able to call upon melds, and had to resort to methods far more extreme."

In the Glomdoring once more, those who were Blacktalon reach out to the trees in communion with them - and then their skin begins to harden. Bark forms, their fingers elongate and turn into branches.  More branches emerge from what is rapidly becoming a trunk as the figures grow taller, and their roots dig into the soil, until finally what are visibly Wyrdenwood stand before you.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "The Wyrdenwood. The Wildewood. The chemancers of the cities. Each were a desperate, final attempt to continue the war - but the war was lost. Muud claimed the Domothean realms, and the Creatrix purged that entire reality from existence."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And yet - the Wheel of Goloths. Its cracks spread from our reality to others, and a few survivors were able to make it here. Those who taught us the arts of that doomed reality were some of them, and so too was Xynthin Himself. And now He was here - and both of us were experiencing these ripples of non-existence."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Perhaps you can guess the reason at this point?"

Xenthos tilts his head curiously.

You have emoted: Esei slowly raises a hand.

Ilistala, an enormous leopard tilts her head and listens intently to you.

Aisha gazes down inquisitively from Xenthos to you.

With a loose gesture of their hands, you whisper, "Two people cannot exist in the same timestream at once, as I understand, even if One has Ascended to Godhood."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Exactly. And so, either one of us had to go, or reality was going to unravel us both."

A chronomantic cube unfolds from thin air, impossibly, with a clicking noise, resting upon the ground.
A chronomantic cube beeps plaintively at you.
Lines of scrolling text wash over a chronomantic cube's surface: Time is not an illusion, but it's not really what you think it is, either.
A chronomantic cube folds upon itself impossibly before vanishing entirely from sight.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And as we pondered what that might mean, reality decided it had had quite enough, and both Xynthin and I found ourselves trapped within the Wheel of Goloths. Outside our reality, which had rejected us. And though I was able to find ways to briefly wrest my way back in, inexorably I was drawn back to stand with him. And then things really started to break."

The center of the Glomdoring, overlooking the Wheel of Goloths.  Flickers reveal Xenthos and the Divine known as Xynthin within, and... emerging from it, a long assortment of a number of beings.  All of which also appear to be Xenthos, but also - not?  Some are wearing garb from the cities, and one even has the antlers of a follower of Hart.  The number of them continues to grow, and each stares around in confusion, clearly babbling to each other and attempting to figure out what is going on.

Aisha gains a small, amused smile for only a brief second.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "It was rapidly becoming a mess. The Glomdoring had a choice - either leave these beings alone, and let reality wipe all of the Xenthosii in our entirety out, leaving only Xynthin - or eliminate them, and place their corpses within the Wheel. Doing so strengthened my own connection to our reality, while severing Xynthin's."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And, as I am the one telling this story, it is clear which path the Forest chose."

A wry smile spreads across Xenthos's face.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Because, before this time, it had become clear that Xynthin's view of the Forest's path was... extreme. A vast forest, but no life beyond the trees themselves. A sterile world, where there was no need for change, no need for growth, simply His victory finally attained. A peace for Him, and non-existence for everything else."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "It turns out that becoming a God changes you. You lose sight of the details, of the little things - things that matter to us as mortals, but which to a God are not even worth a moment's thought."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Even a God-who-was-once-mortal is susceptible to this, and He took it to extremes."

Aisha ponders for a moment and says "Hrm..."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "And thus is the tale of the Wyrden Glory - He who led to the destruction of His entire reality, and then found His end here in ours."