[spirokeat]

Summer to Autumn in the First Year of Ascension

A Mictlan Spearman
The soldier looked up into the darkening skies and wiped the rain from his brow, the troop had been marching for over two weeks to reach the plains of Undrase. He felt good, the battle pay he had already earned would see his wife well for many seasons and the unborn son he had left would have a hero for a father, the first advance of the new god’s army, surely he was blessed. Despite being soaked to the skin he didn’t mind the rain as he knew they faced archers and it would limit their fire somewhat although it made his hide shield feel heavy on his arm as it soaked up water. He could feel the life of his tribal brothers around him, their breath, like dragon smoke billowing from their mouths in the moist air, the creak of leather and dull clank of wooden haft on hide shield. A quick check of his pouch told him he had a full fifteen stones for his sling, though he knew they would be making a paced charge this time shields held high and spears level. The Jaguar warriors intrigued him, he had wanted to join their ranks as a child but the priests had passed him over and so he had joined the regular army instead.
“Spears level! Shields aloft!!” came the bellowing voice of Xolotl their commander.
The soldier was proud to fight under Xolotl, his mere presence made him feel more confident, the same feeling the feathered warriors gave him when he saw their garish antics in the middle of battle.
The air was filled now not just with rain but tension, he looked left and saw one of his brothers briefly pray to Zum Zu’aal to keep him safe and give him luck this day, the new god’s name felt strange, but who was he to question a god ?.
“Charge!” Came the shout.
The soldier began to jog forward, spear levelled, shield up, he smiled and saw his wife waving him off from their hut her long hair cascading down her shoulders in a bronze waterfall and the small bulge in her tummy glowing with health.
Then he saw them through the haze of the rain, a forest of spear tips in the distance and a wall of round shields. He could hear a buzzing in the air and heard the whisper move through the ranks
“Arrows!, shields high !” The was a thud next to him, his brother who had prayed was clutching at a feathered shaft which protruded from his throat, blood gouting from around the hole, it looked black in the rain, blood was so very important he thought, it kept you alive. There was another thud, a steel arrowhead plunged through his shield but was stopped by the leather which had tightened in the rain, he mentally promised to make a donation at the Temple of the Rain when he got home and then the front ranks hit their infantry with a crash. Deflecting a spear with his shield the soldier thrust at an approaching enemy who was forced back by the attack, the warrior to his right went down, transfixed by an arrow and he could hear the whip of sling shot hitting the ranks ahead of him, another warrior took his place. Then he heard a great roar, a warrior in furs to the right of him had dropped his obsidian sword when a spear had grazed his torso, quicker than the soldier could follow great claws had burst through flesh and giant fangs grown from what was now the muzzle of a jaguar, he had never seen the transformation before, it was startling. With a lightning fast leap, the were-jaguar leapt forward, claws tearing at the shocked infantry man who went down under the weight of the now massive creature.

Xolotl, Tribal King
Xolotl filled the cup of his sling with a large stone shot and began the hopping spin that would send the stone hurtling with deadly force towards his enemies. He could see an infantry man flanking one of his men who was watching a jaguar warrior tear into the enemy, what was he thinking! the man would run him through surely. Xolotl loosed the stone ball towards the infantryman and was dismayed to see it bounce off the leather cuirass of the soldier. Then Citalatonac was next to him, arcane words echoing partly in Xolotl’s mind and partly in the moist air, he pointed at the spearman as he began to thrust and a white column erupted from the top of the enemy’s cranium. The soldier emitted a high pitched screech as his mind was burned like parchment in a brazier and letting go of his spear dropped to the floor slain. Xolotl felt for another stone in his pouch, but the cries of the dying could not drown out the shouts of victory as his men began to chase the broken army of Undrase from the field, he could see the soldier Citalatonac had saved stabbing at the now vulnerable rank of archers and he smiled, he remembered the young lad speaking of his soon to be born son with glee the night before. Maybe he would be lucky enough for Zum Zu’aal to devour him once born, now that would be an honour!.

Citalatonac, Moon Priest
Citalatonac was worried, they had taken three territories now and despite searching none had revealed any sites of power, he knew other priests from the temple of the land and the temple of the rain would follow on in his wake to search but he had hope to find a painted cave at the least in these old tribal lands, still the addition of more captured slaves and the newly recruited archers that Xolotl and Tanacatecuhtli had hired would serve them well, the forest of Mag was their next target and they had word of a Priest King joining them with Eagle warriors on the borders next at the start of the month.

Zum-Zuaal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King
Zum Zu’aal bubbled in contemplation as his mind listened to the thoughts and dreams of his growing followers, he would need a prophet to spread his word soon, but none had shown their worth, the ancient mummy was a possibility but he was too precious to send forth into battle now and the spirit needed someone to preside over the sacrifice of children in the outlaying provinces to ensure his word spread. There were other things to attend to in the meantime. The arrival of Mictlipoctli so soon was an unexpected boon and the people would see it as an omen, however he had not had time to prepare the tools the mummy would need, the mysteries of enchantment needed to be plunged so that they could cage a spirit of the underworld into a mortal corpse and create a revenant to assist Mictlipoctli in diving site’s of death.
“Mictlipoctli!” Echoed the blood drenched girl, her head lolled to one side and mouth open and drooling.
“Yes, my god?” Whispered the ancient mummy as it approached the stone structure.
“I wish you to create me an army of death, to herald my name and usher the destruction of all who oppose me!” The ethereal shrieking shifted pitch in harmony with the demand.
“Give me access to your blood slave pens and in the absence of death, I shall raise the skeletons of demons from their unholy graveyards to march in your glorious name” the words slithered like sand on glass from the shrivelled mouth.

Mictlipoctli, King of Legends
Mictlipoctli watched as the young blood speaker hopped up onto the lip of the statue and was embraced by the seemingly living statues at the centre, the rites to call for bone fiends were not solely in the province of blood, requiring knowledge of death also. The cults had lost their affinity for death when that old Couatl had banished his cult an age ago so he knew he would be alone in his work. Still, in the months that had passed since the rising of the Jaguar king, the temples blood pens had filled and he knew he would have enough innocents to slay to call the bone fiends forth. He marched from the cave and issued orders to the waiting attendants to prepare the summoning circles and other paraphernalia he needed, including the six innocent lives whose blood he needed to power the ritual.

Tzitzimime, Priest King
Tzitzimime had felt a swell of pride when one of the attendants of the new god had entered the temple of the land with the offerings of gold which would bind him to service, he knew other priest had been bound, but he was the first of his temple. Tzitzimime had acted as a priestly leader to the kingdom for many years but yearned for the legends of the old ways when blood flowed like a great flood and the empire was rising. Since meeting Mictlipoctli he had been unable to shake the feeling that it might happen again in his time and it pleased him greatly. Taking command of a flight of the eagle warriors he had been told to take them and some reinforcements to Mag and join up with Xolotl the tribal king currently leading the nation’s main army. If all was well he would accompany them to ensure the blessings of Zum Zu’aal were given to the warriors in their eagle feather cloaks and also to capture more slaves, but most importantly, seek out sites to gather the elusive but essential gems of nature needed to fuel the powerful rituals his temple possessed. One week was all he needed and he would be on his way while the summer sun beamed down its blessing of fertility upon the rich lands of Mictlan.

A Blood Slave
The young girl looked fearfully up from the cage as she heard the guards approach, as naïve as she was, her future fate did not escape her. At fourteen seasons she had kept her innocence in the hope of meeting a fine husband but instead she had been given by her parents as a gift to the temple of the sun in return for land favour, she sobbed and wished that the new god would devour them instead of her. The thought sobered her and she sniffed and wiped the tears from her dusty face, the other five girls around her had either cried themselves to sleep or were near hysterical with fear. The slave keeper looked impassively on as the priest and guards that accompanied him spoke to him, he handed them the keys. Quickly the cage was opened the girls herded out to be examined by the priest and each handed a white robe to wear and chained in a line with slim silver shackles as each set of shackles were fitted, the girls quieted and became dazed and mindless, at Last the line came to her and the cold silver of the clamp placed around her slim ankle, she could feel the warmth flowing up her leg and try as she might, could not prevent its sinuous crawl up her flesh, as the feeling reached her neck she gave one Last fearful gaze at the stone faced priest and then her mind was lost to the passive feelings generated by the shackles and with a tap from a scabbard hilt, the line was lead off into the corridors of the temple and who knew where.

A Temple Priest
Approaching an ornate door of steel and obsidian etched stone the white clad line came to a halt, the priest approached the door and grasped a grotesque looking iron heart held fast by a dagger piercing it and swinging from a chain which lead to the nose ring of a demonic beast of some kind. The iron heart rang out with a boom as it met the metal of the door. Without a word the doors began to slowly open revealing a large chamber beyond, tiered steps leading downwards to an octagonal centre, ringed by braziers with gleaming red coals winking from their depths. Stepping through the steel doors the priest barely acknowledged the robed and hooded figure beckoning the figures in white forward, columns of dark incense curling snake-like from the braziers around it. A distant thunder pealed through the priests mind, perhaps a storm? , no, drums, rhythmic and pulsing like some dread theme to the grisly events unfolding.

The priest could see markings on the floor around the figure, arcana that even as an adept of blood magic, he could not decipher. The girls took up positions around the figure even though the priest could hear no commands being issued; only the deep boom of the drums seemed to penetrate the heavy atmosphere of the laboratory. In position the robe girls remained frozen like statues as the figure in the centre of the circle look around surveying that all was indeed ready and reaching up pulled back the black hood which obscured his features revealing a scene of tomb wrought horror to the observing priest, desiccated and shrivelled with hollow eye sockets and thin dried hair protruding from between crusted bandages long since bonded as one with the leathered flesh. Animated by his own dark will the mummy began to inscribe symbols in the air with his clawed hand, the incense in the air drifting inwards and seeming to hold into place as each mark was written in the air. Shambling slowly round followed by swirls of dark smoke that clung to the now numerous black symbols hanging in the air Mictlipoctli finished the circle and shot a hollow eyed glance at the nearest girl who lurched forward and into his chilling grasp. Stepping behind her and producing a murderously curved blade from within the mysterious innards of his robe the mummy raised the blade and with one quick movement brought the keen point deep into the gullet of the motionless girl. Yanking the blade free and her head back with one skeletal fist clutching her hair Mictlipoctli directed the now spurting arterial spray into the midst of the drifting symbols. Still silently observing the proceedings the priest watched as the blood where it met the smoke disappeared and did not pass downwards to the ground but instead ripped small holes in the very fabric of reality as though shattering a window to another place, more and more tears were appearing as the rhythmic gouts of the girls life force pumped forth directed by the steel grip of Mictlipoctli. The air in the circle looked like a curtain with a thousand tiny holes burned through it and some dark other place could be glimpsed beaming through and lifting the now spent remains the mummy hurled the corpse forward at the punctured veil. As though struck by a large stone the very air gave way as the blood covered remains struck the centre of the smoke circle and revealed fully beneath was another place that reached out to places in the mind and imagination that should never be thought, let alone seen. Stretching off for as far as the eye could see was a field of cracked bones, as though some eternal battle had been fought and each fallen warrior decayed unto bones, the clawed remains of charred trees reached their clawed stumps upwards from the landscape of bones as though trying to grasp the dark and billowing skies, periodically lit by unseen flashes of lightening.

Mictlipoctli, King of Legends
Moving quickly Mictlipoctli called forth a second blood slave who mechanically stumbled into his deadly grasp, again the blade flashed and her throat was slit, a brutal gash rendering her smiling in her own imminent death as she was lifted over the pulsing portal and her life force ebbed downwards onto the bone floor. Speaking for the first time the unliving king echoed a calling as the first droplets of blood reached the parched bone floor, the words spoken in the ancient tongue of blood which as an adept the priest understood
“That which eternal lies, and with countless aeons even devils die, be bound by this deaths call and serve my will till thy own scythe falls.”
The words echoed into the black eternity of the place beyond and with a grisly cracking some of the bones began to move towards the now pooling blood on the floor beyond the veil. Clawed arms reached from the very ground as the bones boiled around the focal point and a fiend of death and blood lifted itself from the graveyard of demons from which Mictlipoctli had called it. Quickly reaching for another slave the process was repeated and again another hell born bone fiend was raised from its own torment. The priest noticed the smoke which bubbled at the edge of the veil was drifting free and where it left, the laboratory could be seen as the natural order reasserted itself and nature healed the wound which the blood had caused. Finishing the third summoning, the priest was startled to see a skeletal claw reach out through the veil and grasp the edge and begin to pull itself upwards, free from the hellish prison it had been born in, then another claw and another bone fiend. The priest looked dismayed but Mictlipoctli stood as though stone, the final girl gripped tightly in his grasp as the third bone fiend escaped from its infernal incarceration. Advancing menacingly the fiends bore down on the immobile form of the King of Legends, then at the Last moment, the final offering was thrust into the charging path of hell, tearing at the sweet blood within the white robe was slashed by the razor claws of the beasts and where each swipe fell, crimson pearls scattered through the air as the frenzied creatures slashed and gored the sacrifice. Meanwhile with chilling words issuing from his evil maw, the mummy spoke words of binding upon the fiends. The priest closed his eyes; he could not imagine having to go through such an ordeal. Bound to the summoners will the fiends, gore smeared stood still after their unholy feast.
Mictlipoctli turned to his awestruck attendant and said simply.
“Prepare the laboratory; we perform the summoning again on the next favourable conjunction”.

Xolotl, Tribal King
The battle of Mag was short-lived, the new archers that Xolotl had recruited in conjunction with the sling shots of the Mictlan troops had decimated the incoming infantry and though some slaves and a few warriors had been lost when the blessings of Zum Zu’aal had touched the wings of the fanatical eagle warriors the Priest King had brought they soared high into the air and rained death from above on the small group of archers and commanders that sat in mistaken safety at the back of the battle. It was true the poorly protected eagle warriors had suffered casualties but their purpose was served well and he knew more would follow from the capital. They were to remain a month while Citalatonac and Tzitzimime searched for magical places. He would busy himself with the rowdy and unruly residents of the wood, this was a wild place alright, he suspected bandits or insurgents were rife and he would patrol the next weeks to subdue them and fill his own slave quota.

Citalatonac, Moon Priest
Citalatonac had been searching the province for over two weeks when he came upon the first signs, a rune, carved into the bark of a tree. It was a simple code for those who knew the arts of magic and meant knowledge. Could there be a guild of some kind hidden in these woods? Tzitzimime was searching the forest also and he felt sure between them they would uncover what they sought. It had taken a further week of probing before he had spotted the squat tower jutting from the tops of the trees, he smiled as Tzitzimime followed his direction and caught sight also and together they walked through the trees towards the clearing where a robed figure awaited them at the foot of the tower. Citalatonac mentally prepared himself as they approached in case the figure proved hostile, but he was confident that between them they could handle most things and as they approached the figure called out.
“Declare yourself, who approaches this place of knowledge” the figure called.
“I am but a servant of Zum Zu’aal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King” Citalatonac replied.
The figure nodded and gestured they approach. Citalatonac remained still and made a further challenge
“Do you acknowledge the divine will?”
There was a brief pause and the sage merely nodded and walked back into the tower, the door left open, the Mictlan priests looked briefly at each other and followed in.

Xolotl, Tribal King
Tanacatecuhtli seemed pleased when Xolotl gave him the news that the other priests had uncovered a Sage’s guild but he needed the priests help in uncovering the continuing unrest in the region, they had already killed half a dozen trouble makers but Xolotl felt certain there was some root cause of this trouble and he knew the priests had a nose for blood, so he had enlisted Tanacatecuhtli on the patrols. Sure enough, they had tracked down a Brigand’s lair and the priest was even now bribing the brigands and telling them of the new god, Xolotl sighed, he would have liked to just slay them out of hand, but he knew they would simply return in another place, it was unlikely this region would be quelled fully and the taxes would have to be light to keep the peace. Still, the bandit leader had told him something of the forces that would face him as they passed from the eaves of this forest and further east into Ligrea, apparently a tribe of lizardmen resided there and even the villains in this wood avoided them as they ate human flesh if they caught it. Still, they used tridents for battle and no missile’s, he would spend the month the priest had asked for recruiting more archers here and then play a holding action and let the lizards run the gauntlet of stone and arrow to get to his troops, he felt sure that would take the bite out of them, chuckling at his own joke Xolotl returned to the conversation at hand as the priest shook hands with the grubby bandit and turned back to Xolotl with a smile.

[ July 27, 2004, 13:59: Message edited by: spirokeat ]