Lessons from the Tomes

Oh the books how they flutter! It’s not entirely clear who did this to them, but someone has enticed the books to roam about the realm free. As birds perhaps.  The magical tomes have found their way into every territory, Stormstead, the waters of the Kuvari’s Deep, the clearing of the Moei Asing and the pits of Ebon Reach.  They are at times peaceful.  Other times violent. And every feeling in between.  Frightened, confused, all knowing and reasonable. They’ve encountered the diversity of denizens in this jungle realm. And their message seems most enticing.  They are free and they intend to remain this way, since they no longer have a keeper.

What could have freed the tomes? At this point it’s mere speculation, but one thing is well known, anyone who looked into the shop could see a potent reminder of the culprit. A book taken down to ash.  Who would have motivation to destroy a magical tome? Certainly no one in the village proper would take such desperate measures to disturb the proper placement of the books.  Perhaps the Kuvari or the Moei Asing? Though it is doubtful.  They are all too weak to take such action.

And why destroy a mere magical book?  As an example perhaps. Freedom is false.  For clearly, all the books are returning to their shop. Their slavery.  Their tomb. It’s a good reminder for the denizens of the jungle. Their situation is tenuous.  They may appear free, but in reality, they too are subject to a keeper. And more often than not, slaves to their own weaknesses.

~ a concerned citizen of the jungle realm

((ooc submitted by eiirwen / photo credit eyeless viper))

 

A cure hits the village. Thanks to the kind benefactors of the land!

So it would seem you’ve all been cured.  Isn’t that just fine and dandy?  I mean it! You’re lucky the Prince arrived on the scene just in time to do some good for your citizenry.  His coming to the village was well timed, no doubt.  No, that’s not a double entendre.  I’m sure he did it that way on purpose.  And no, not because he’s your likely scapegoat. No sirs and madams, he’s your savior! Ungrateful wretches if you believe otherwise.  Always casting blame for your injury on someone other than yourselves.  Years and years spent in this jungle, having your way with the land and the natives in it and then thinking you’d just cozy up and do what you like forevermore? Laughable arrogance.  

Perhaps the illness was wrought upon you by the gods who your former governor, the half drow, provoked to anger.  Some of your own people said he would! Provoke the gods to angry retribution. And yet no one is talking about that.  Well, I heard one person talking about it.  But everyone ignored her.  And blame cast its way right to the Imp.  Have you heard him talk? He’s so charming and eloquent.  Kind and benevolent.  I can’t imagine he’d do anyone any harm.  Not so much as the savage auspices of the former governor.  Or the wolf kin who prowl about the land losing control of themselves and tearing people to shreds.  Or the wayward arrows and “self defense” I’ve seen in the other citizenry of the village.  

Though I am not concerned by it at all.  Our Prince will protect us from such savagery and unwarranted violence.  He will hasten our hopes and plans for a better more productive and trade friendly jungle.  He’ll do the same for the natives and the merfolk.  The only ones out of the loop are the people who live in the village and no wonder they were infected with a serious ailment, they lack a healthy connection to the land! It rebelled against them.  As the natives always said it would.  

Really, someone should listen to the natives.  They’re very smart.  Gifted and inspired by their Mother goddess. Their efforts helped to cleanse the land of the vile blackness cast upon it by the indecency of the villagers. History repeating itself really.  Like they say, those who fail to learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. Now that everything has been set to right by the combined efforts of the Reach and the Moei Asing – dragons put back to slumber, the illness of the black silt cured by the dragon’s own blood – seems to me, the future looks bright from here.  Even for the reckless villagers.  Surely they will benefit from the good work of the Prince and the Myan!

~~ An opinion piece, by one loyal to the benefactors of the land. In response to Henry’s moaning.

 

((ooc submitted by Eiirwen))

The rise of the black silt and the new Governor of Stormstead

There’s a black tint to the waters of late. Some say they were poisoned.  Others say it’s a natural ailment of the land.  What I do know is that the waters of Ohm are bleeding black silt and there’s only one way to find out the truth in the matter.  Find the dragon and ask her.  I know! It sounds ridiculous.  But you can’t poison the water without poisoning the dragon.  It’s her tears that flood the pools and mountain streams and cascade to the Kuvari below.  It’s the system of drinking water for the entire land really. Unless you dwell on the opposite side of the valley.  The pools there remain pristine.  It’s the legend of this land that concerns me of late.  First the fiery dragon of Azifix was roused from his slumber and now the groaning from the deep caves of Ohm.  So if she has been awakened as well, the stories hold true.  These old friends, Azifix and Ohm, though they had some falling out a millennia ago, are still stalwart companions, even in these troubled times.

What trouble you ask?  Have you not seen them? Seen him?  The imp, they call him Lucky, he used to work in the bath house here in the village and now, now he’s someone of import, in the Ebon Reach! He’s come into the village with his band of rabble and he’s taken over the governor’s hut.  He has staked his claim as Governor! I’m no expert in village history, but actually I am! Just another bloke in the long line of blokes who come into the village and stake their claim over it all. What makes him any different than the rest?  Those who line their pockets with jewel studded finery and yet leave the village worse off than before they arrived, claiming they knew best for all.  They’ve been here for days now and yet nothing has changed.  They cozy up and take what they like, causing dismay throughout the village and yet, what have they done to aid us in our time of great need?

The sickness has pervaded the drinking water.  It’s everywhere.  Or at least it seems to be.  It’s sickening to the tongue and awful are its symptoms.  Lesions and headaches and the terrible desire to give  in to its way.  To let it do as it will.  Though I’m not entirely certain what it wants or how I know it wants anything at all.  But I feel strongly that th
ere’s something more to this black silt than the awful fever and terrible pain I feel right now! The Imp and his crew promise a cure.  Though days have gone by and we still suffer.  Why does he make us wait for our salvation? Does he mean to enslave us all? What does it bode for Stormstead when the Myan of the Asing and several strong looking mer appear about the Governor’s hut in these trying days? Are they forming an alliance against us? We should rise up against them! We should take to the paths and to the governor’s hut and riot and demand what is due to us!   Though I feel, before long, there may be no strength left in us for a fight.  I may be hallucinating now, but there’s a deep groaning coming from Mt Ohm and a trembling in the ground beneath my feet.

I look to the mountain and I believe I hear the dragon’s roar.  She is sick they say, she needs to be healed.  But who will heal the great dragon of Ohm?  Who will purify the waters and bring us relief?  The new Governor? The citizenry? The Asing or the Kuvari? The Reach? Perhaps Hope here in her Medica can conjure up a cure? Or the strange fella in the swamps who does magic?

I look to the tavern and I see them, a line of folk walking along the path now.  I recognize some of them.  What are they going to do? They’re heading for the fishing dock. Do they march upon the Myconid cave? Perhaps there is hope yet! Or is it the sting of desperation that drives them? I hope something happens and soon! These lesions are so itchy and my fever grows worse.

– Henry, a very concerned and sick citizen of Stormstead, camped out at the medica.

((submitted ooc by Eiirwen))

Beware the changing tide

They streamed down like so many veins of dark mineral, cold, solid, converging on the place.  The chained stone held upon the waters. The roar of the falling waters, such energy and yet nothing compared to what awaited them in the stone.  Should they hold it down, capture it, successfully.  Sure enough they arrived, led by their Prince, and one by one, held their hands to the great stone.  The glowing crystal of the accursed stone.  The abhorrent creatures, destroyed by their own hubris and yet here they were, chained and bound to serve others’ hunger for power and glory.  It wouldn’t take long, to make the stone their slave.  Soon, energy flowed forth and enticed them and they took hold of it.  

Strange creatures these.  I don’t know what they are, truly.  Do we ever know what a being truly is in this realm? Covered in illusion, each of them probably change identity to serve their purposes.  There was some celebration as the stone became theirs.  Though do they truly control it?  Do they know what power they now sustain?  It is doubtful.  It would be fearful if they alone dwelt in the jungle.  But there are others and so perhaps the plans of these greedy few will be thwarted after all.  Let us not be mistaken, they own nothing, but power wielded at the hands of weak and foolish beings is still power.

For the time, they control the fate of the stone. Chained, held down, to be protected and yet, entirely vulnerable to the savage whims of the Ebon Reach.

And so they seek to control the tide.  Let us hope they are not the only ones.

~ Jungle Informant, witness to these dark dealings of the Ebon Reach

 

((ooc submitted by Eiirwen resident))

The Mists & Signs of things to come

These happenings are not natural, they speak of some dark magic perhaps or the ill tidings of a battle between unseen forces, the gods. Gods of misfortune clearly.  For those who have suffered from the depravity of the mists, including myself, we will suffer the scars for years to come.  The darkness that mingles with the benign vestige of a delicate fog.  The turmoil that leeches into a person’s mind.  The hunger suffered by those who answer the mists calling.  These are terrible things. Outrageous marks upon our good realm.  Upon Ame’s good people and their allies.  

I cannot say for certain, yet, what has caused these things to be.  I work on the problem diligently.  I give thanks to the Mother goddess for releasing me from slavery to the mists.  I cannot yet put into words what I felt, saw and heard in the mists and their whispering.  Perhaps I may never, for I would rather forget than to delve deeply into such darkness.  I would not pretend that there is some goodness in these strange occurrences, the red hued mists stalking the people of the realm, forcing them into servitude to feed its own hunger, or at the very least, people becoming so disillusioned from dark hallucinations that they truly believe this to be! I saw, even through the fog, fire and ice, threatening to rip apart the very land.  Lightning strikes dancing about the jungle floor, taking down trees and startling the wildlife.  The animals shrieking in horror and scattering or attacking those who dare come too close.  

I believe these things to be signs and portents of a darkness yet to come.  Turning creature against creature.  Dragons carrying off the injured, warrior attacking warrior, driders sworn to our protection becoming endangered themselves, talk of the entire village taken refuge up in the crystal and myconid caves of Mt Ohm.  Yet, this news frightened me! The mists descended from the high reaches of Mt Ohm! If the land is cleansed of its evil, it may retreat back to whence it came, leaving the villagers in grave danger.  

Yes, the cleansing came upon us.  I believe it is upon us even now.  The ice creaked, reaching out with snowy tendrils and the fire spread, scorching the land. The Mother goddess, Ame Moei, willed to no longer tolerate this scourge upon her creation.  She drew justice down upon us all.  The gods who threaten this realm will not be allowed to continue their terror upon us. Ame Moei saw the sacrifice was finished and brought upon us the cleansing rains. Right order will be restored to the land. I write this to you now that you may realize later what has happened. Be warned of the retreating flood waters and see fit to prepare yourselves for greater storms to come.

-Myan Ornith

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ooc written: Eiirwen

photo credit: Blanche Fralto