PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2 (Running)

[puffyn]

So many new turns in the last few days... it's like Christmas.

--- C'tis, Turn 45 ---

Lugal was trying something new, and it wasn't working at all.

It had taken him all week, but he had finally gotten the pen set up. The fence was sunk a hundred centimeters into the ground around the entire circumference, to discourage digging, and was meticulously interwoven with thorns, to dissuade any rabbits who might take "free range" too much to heart and attempt an escape. In the center was a marvelous new hutch, an inviting creation of wood and stone and earth than any rabbit would be proud to call home.

A little too proud. It had been nearly half an hour since Lugal had yelled at the last apprentice sauromancers, who had actually done all of the backbreaking work, to disappear, and since then not a single twitching nose had emerged. There were no floppy ears to be seen, no hoppy feet, nothing. Lugal was beginning to feel like the whole business of well exercised food animals being happy food animals, and thus tastier food animals, was all rubbish, and at any rate quite untestable, when Hema walked up with a pile of curious orange spears and began throwing them around the pen.

It was not the oddest thing Lugal had seen young lizards do lately, certainly no odder than the customs of some of the tribes in the swamps where he had been a hatchling. Why, there had been this one village where everyone would always walk around with an onion tied to their belt... Lugal was lost in reminiscences and almost did not see the first curious rabbit, a small brown fellow, sniff the air, peer around cautiously, then take his first few hops toward freedom and the orange spears.

It was a little harder to miss the thumping sound of the half-dozen rabbits who quickly followed, however, and soon the pen was filled with happy little rabbits, stretching their legs for the first time, and nibbling on the food of the gods.

"Erm," coughed Lugal, "what are those strange little whazzits?"

"You mean carrots, Lugal?" said Hema. She had watched his project with great amusement all week, although always she was careful to be quite busy with important Affairs of State whenever Lugal looked like he might want her to dig a fence post.

"Powerful magical artifacts, are they?" said Lugal. "They look mighty useful, what are they, potent earth-fire magicks?"

"No, Lugal, they're vegetables," said Hema, stifling a laugh. "They grow in the ground. Lizards eat them too, you know," she said.

The carnivore gave her a very distasteful look, but whatever bizarre utterance he was about to make was cut off by the sudden sound of rabbits trampling the ground, desperately trying to escape... back into their hutch. Hema looked around, deeply puzzled, until she spied a fat man in a shabby brown cloak, coming up the woodland path.

"Ah, I see the ambassador from Marignon has arrived."


"Hail, heretic!"

"You scared my rabbits!" Lugal bared his teeth, but Hema tugged at his robes firmly, so he didn't move.

"Uh... yes... I am Brother Gebuin, emissary of the One True Church of Marignon. Take me to your leader."

"Do you know how long it takes to get the adrenaline out of their system?" continued Lugal, now quite irate. "Now who am I going to eat for lunch?"

"Um, Lugal," hissed Hema, somewhat insistently. "This man is from Marignon, not the deli."

Brother Gebuin tried again, "I bring an offer of peace. This terrible war must end!"

There was silence. In the distance, a few rabbits could be heard crying.

Finally, Hema piped up.

"Er, war?"

"You do speak human, don't you?" Brother Gebuin did a short interpretive dance depicting a man being skewered by a pike. "War. Bad."

Lugal and Hema exchanged a glance. "It's just that... well... our nations have always been at peace. Well, except for that incident with the temple,"
said Hema.

"Not to mention the unwarranted terrifying of my rabbits," said Lugal, his beady eyes boring down on the plump friar. Come to think of it, he looked a bit rabbit-like...

Brother Gebuin shifted his heavy beech-wood staff to stand more authoritatively between him and sharp pointy lizard teeth. "Okay, but one day we'll be at war, and then we'll need to have peace negotiations." He was beginning to feel a bit unsure of himself. Perhaps Gawain had meant to send him to the Vans instead? Gebuin wished he'd paid more attention, but the knight's shield had been very distracting.

Hema began to realize she was in a bit over her head. She quietly edged away as Lugal began a loud tirade on matters leporine, and then began to skitter, and then run, to fetch Cole.


As Cole approached, he saw that Brother Gebuin and Lugal had settled down to a nice game of checkers with broken egg shells and rabbit bones for the pieces. The bones seemed to be winning, but just barely.

"Ah, my good fellow, how is our friendly neighbor to the south/north?" said Cole.

"I bring a message from Father Muszinger and the Church. The first part was an offer of peace, but it turns out that's not strictly necessary... yet... but the second part of my message is probably still valid. If we attack all the vaguely greenish-bannered races in Inland, could you be persuaded to remain on the sidelines?"

"And which nations would those be, young man?" said the dragon politely.

Hema felt a little ill at ease. Didn't C'tis have a vaguely greenish...

"Ah. A wise question oh great dragon," said Gebuin, hoping to avoid becoming kindling. "I have a list here somewhere... yes... Man, Pangaea (if they're still alive), and C... Kiss... no, er wait, See-tiss. That's an odd name."

"I do believe my little kingdom is pronounced C'tis," said Cole, eyes narrowed oh so slightly.

"Yes! C'tis. That's right. We just call you the lizards back home and... um..." Gebuin trailed off again. Hastily shoving the document back into his pouch, he straightened a little, "I'm sure that's a clerical error. I'll have the responsible Cleric burnt when I get home."

"You do that," said Cole.

There was a pause.

"Is there anything else the good father would like you to tell me? Approximate army strength with which you will be invading my undefended border, timing, anything like that?" said Cole.

"No, that wasn't included in my briefing," said Gebuin. "Do you have an answer to our fair and just offer that I may take back?"

Cole took a deep breath, pondered for a moment. Then he breathed flame onto the nearest tree, instantly incinerating it. A burning branch fell into the rabbit pen, killing the curious little brown rabbit, who had stuck his nose out again.

The dragon flew off toward the capitol, and Hema thought he seemed to be flying a little faster than usual.



"So, er, yes, was that?" said Father Gebuin. Receiving no response from the lizards he drew a glowing purple gem from his pouch. "Can I buy some roast rabbit for lunch?"

Lugal's eyes lit up. "I don't see why not, yes, yes, rabbit for lunch, very good." He plucked the unfortunate but tasty smelling roast rabbit from the pen and motioned to Hema. "My herb-pouch, please." His eyes lit up as he removed some fresh dill, picked just that morning, and cheerfully offered some to the Father, who was spreading his cloak on the grass. "Fine day for a picnic lunch, yes," said Lugal.

Lugal did not ask Hema to join them, but that was okay. She felt quite sick to her stomach, and the smell of roast rabbit had absolutely nothing to do with it. She suddenly understood the rabbits' urge to flee, and walked quickly back to the city.

[The Panther]

As usual, I was arguing with my uncle. The latest heated discussion was about Project AQ.

“Ralph, I do not like this idea of yours at all!”

“But Selena, it is not my idea!”

“Oh, really? Then whose idea is it?”

“Our fine Minister of Research, your childhood friend Veronicas.”

This stopped me for a bit. But I gathered my wits quickly and bounced back. “Then why did she not tell me this instead of you?”

“Oh, because she is so darn busy these days. As are you, I night add, constructing all those artifacts for our army. In fact, she asked me to tell you all about Project AQ.”

Well, this put a new light on the situation. Veronicas has not been wrong yet. If this really was her idea, well then…

In a blinding insight, I suddenly realized that this MUST be her idea. No way would Ralph discover this knowledge outside the laboratory of the Research Ministry. I therefore got over this little annoyance with my uncle. I suppose he was just the messenger anyway.

I changed tactics and said, “OK, Ralph, I believe you. Now tell me, exactly why should we employ other Queens in my army. Aren’t I the only Queen we need?

“Of course you are my only Queen, Selena! These other creatures are simply magical beings. They are only referred to as Queens of the Sky. In fact, any nation can summon these Air Queens. But we should get them first.”

“And just what good are they?”

“Ah, they are most powerful beings. They control storms and lightning. They can summon powerful Air Elementals in battle. They can cast wind guide for our longbowmen. They can kill nearly unlimited mundane, ordinary troops. And they can use the air itself in the form of Lightning Swarms to easily crush all enemies. I assure you, we do NOT want to have to fight against these Air Queens. You MUST direct Veronicas to go forth with Project AQ.”

“And what exactly will it cost me from my treasury?”

“Well, Veronicas said we must have a very powerful air mage. As you well know, you have no knowledge of any air magic. Thus, it cannot be you.”

“Who is our most powerful air mage?”

“Igraine, an ancient Crone of Avalon. But this spell is so difficult that she will need much help.”

“What kind of help?”

“Igraine will need to be empowered. It costs 60 air gems to complete that one ritual. She will also need to use our Bag of Winds and our Winged Helmet, both of which have already been built using 15 air gems apiece using your Dwarven Hammers. And she will need one more thing we do not currently have.”

“Ninety air gems. Plus even more?”

“Yes, my Queen. Igraine will need a Staff of Elemental Mastery that you alone can construct. This will cost your magical treasury 15 fire gems and 15 water gems when using one of our Hammers. You should do it this very month while we empower Igraine.”

I mused out loud, “All that just for some false queens…”

“And that is still not all, Selena. Igraine will have to spend 50 air gems apiece to summon each Air Queen over the course of three months. In fact, this is why Veronicas has been saving air gems for years.”

I exploded over this news. “RALPH! Well over TWO HUNDRED air gems plus some other kinds too. No way!”

“Yes way, Selena. These Air Queens are that powerful.”

“Nothing is that powerful.”

“These queens are, Selena. They are truly quite strong, especially after we construct many artifacts for them to use in battle. We MUST have these three Air Queens to limit the army losses in the upcoming Green banner War. You do still plan to conduct this war, right?”

“Yes, I will go through with this war. But Ralph, I really still do not like this at all. I am the only true Queen around here.”

“Oh, of course you are! These are merely Queens of the Air. They are NOT Queens of Man. They will follow your orders, and yours alone if we summon them first. Go talk to Veronicas. I know you will believe her.”

I glared at my uncle and replied hotly, “Good idea, dear uncle. I will do exactly that. And right now too! This conversation is over.” I immediately stormed out of my chamber without a backwards glance. I am sure my uncle was smirking at me anyway!

And so, that is how it happened. I did talk to Veronicas. She backed up my uncle completely. She did admit to all this being her idea. And she did strongly assure me that these Air Queens could be controlled by me. She even gave me the wise suggestion to bring them into my chamber one at a time for a private chat as they were summoned out of the air.

So, in a seemingly fast month, the very first Air Queen to show her face called herself Nephele. I had laid out all the artifacts on my work table that we constructed for Nephele’s use on the battlefield against Pangaea. I tried not to think of all the gems being drained from my treasury for this one project alone. Easily 400 gems just for three false queens, consisting mostly of valuable air gems.

And when I was done talking to this odd creature, I found Veronicas and Ralph to both be correct. This was no true queen. Maybe Nephele could control the very air, but she had no intelligence. She had no vision, nor any plans. Not like me, or even like Ralph or Veronicas! And she was strongly tied to me though unbreakable magical bonds. I could easily feel the truth of that.

This scene was then repeated twice more over the course of the following two months. Next, it was Thuella. And finally, there was Aella. All three Air Queens now serve Man alone. I sent them down to the war chamber for their battle orders. I wondered the wisdom of all this.

But only time will tell if Project AQ was worth the cost or not.

[djo]

It's time for Vanheim turn 48!

In which Vethru tells Pherios why.


Pherios

For the first time since he had me hanged, months ago, Vethru comes to visit me. My aunt Tilneia, the Lady of the Tower, had been relaying his messages to me, initially with reluctance, later, with active derision. For all his circuitous arguments and rationalizations, his demands came to the same: I was to resume prophesying, and I was to take to the battlefield against Vanheim's enemies. Under his command. I refused, and I remained imprisoned.

Today he walks into my cell, Quellian Ji on his shoulder. Ji, too, had been bringing his master's messages. And like Tilneia, he wasn't happy about it, but he tended to plead with me rather than try to convince me. I think he just wanted everyone to get along.

My first glance at Vethru since my transformation staggers me. In an instant, he realizes that I'm peering into the spirit realm, and he clouds what I can see. But that single glimpse is terrifying.

Vethru's a patchwork. He's put together out of dozens of distinct body parts, knitted together in a blinding web of necromantic energies. There are hundreds of spirits flitting around him. I can only imagine what they're doing--sensing danger, maintaining his body, standing ready to defend him, whatever. Each one of them is tethered to him by a gossamer tendril. Impressive, but not the scary part. The tendrils are nearly invisible, because they're overshadowed by massive conduits of power running off into dimensions I can't access. Vethru-that-I-see, as powerful as he is, is nothing; he's the finger puppet of something else, much larger, hiding in a universe that I'll never touch. Vethru-that-is-elsewhere could swallow Vanheim.

"How did it come to this?" he asks. "Every one of my seers is touched by you. You, your uncle, the girls, and now, my lizard. I've given you a window into all the realms of life and death, and you, in turn, take my eyes away. How is that fair?"

Tilneia told me that Molly was in hiding, safe. A few days ago, I convinced the spirits of some lizards to stop telling their brother anything useful. "What did you do with Akkulu?" I ask.

"I sent him home."

Good. "Will you let me go, too? I'm not going to help you."

He pulls a chair up to the table and sits across from me. "I don't do this often," he says. "Once every twenty or thirty worlds, maybe. Always in low-tech worlds, funny. The techies and scientists never even consider that there might be something beyond their physical law. But there is. I'm going to tell you the secrets of the universe. Then you'll understand why you have to help me."

He thinks for a moment, almost ignoring me. Even though my transformation left me more powerful than ever before, there's no way I can stand against him now. I have no weapons or armor. I'm weak and half starved. And there's a short chain running from my ankle to a bolt set in the floor. I'm not sure it makes any difference.

"There is something beyond magic," Vethru says. "Something outside the world, that gives it its shape. Determines its rules. Is the rules, in a way."

"And you want to read them?"

"I want to rewrite them. It goes beyond that. These 'rules' are the world. They're the program the universe runs."

I'm lost. Program?

"No, damnit, wrong vocabulary. Think of a clockwork automaton. A toy. Or better yet, one of those clever music boxes with the little silver birds whose wings flap and beaks open and close as they 'sing'."

"Birds," I repeat.

He snorts. "Pay attention, boy! The birds don't matter. It's the clockworks. Ever take one of those apart? Seen the gears, and the toothed cylinder? Those parts tell the birds what to do. Those are the rules made metal."

"You're looking for...the world's gears?"

"Hood's breath, I'm looking for the source code to the universe!" He's exasperated, but it quickly passes. "It'd take months to explain this to you properly. Listen: yes, there are rules, and yes, I intend to rewrite them."

I think that's ghastly, and I tell him so.

Vethru shakes his head with a sad smile. "You don't see it. You've got the past and future in your head, and all of life and death, and your mind is still too small to see it.

"When I know the rules, I can fix things. Plague? Gone. Poverty? I'll tweak society's parameters, and your world takes three big steps toward a liberal democratic economy. I make one small change in your planet's albedo, and the growing season in temperate climates is extended two weeks, increasing crop yields enough to feed a nation of starving people. I can do these things, when I find the right parts of the rules that plug into your world.

"I've been doing this for tens of thousands of years, scouring the dimensions for little fragments of these rules. I estimate I've found between seventeen and nineteen percent of the total. Doesn't sound like much, does it? You can't cast seventeen percent of a spell. Doesn't work. But the source code is vast. Even small pieces have power. If I have the right fragments, in the right world...I can work wonders."

He's not even with me now. He's somewhere lost in memory. His voice grows soft, pleased. "In five worlds, it was enough. I left golden ages behind me. Shining cities, an educated and healthy populace. Can you conceive of a million people? A billion? I've saved that many lives. I've improved ten times as many!" Now his eyes find me again, and they're cold. "That's what you're interfering with. Give me Vanheim, and I'll put them on top of this world. I'll save this whole world from the zealots and monsters. I've almost found when I need, but I need armies to get to it. And I need your help."

He stands up. "You're smart, and you're a good kid. Think about it. Reach out to all those souls you now see, and ask them if you should give the world a better life."

He leaves, but Ji stays.

He kind of clears his throat, and says, "So, um, OK, sometimes the boss sound like a megalomaniac. You got me there. But it's true! Kid, I've been following him around for about a hundred and twenty years now, and I've seen it. Not one of the really good ones, but I've seen him take real hellholes and turn them into places you wouldn't mind bringing up your kids. He can do it. Just...think about it, OK?"

"And when he leaves," I ask, "Does he give them the knowledge? Or does it all go with him?"

Ji flutters his wings. "Better than letting every Joe in the street have it. Imagine Marignon with that power."

"I'm fairly sure they wouldn't have trapped my fiancee's soul in her reanimated corpse and enslaved her until her second horrible death."

"Sorry, kid," he says. "You know, I been saying that a lot lately, and I don't feel any better than you. But what can I do? It ain't a perfect world. Every choice has a dark side."

"You've got a choice, too," I say. "Tell my father where I am."

"I can't!" he squawks.

"Your choice," I reply. He flies out.

Well. Vethru had one good idea. I lay on my cot, close my eyes, and reach out to ask the spirit surrounding me what they think of tyrants.


Petema

I suppose our conspiracy should have met in the back room of a dark tavern on a stormy night, but my sitting room is very pleasant in the afternoon sun. I served tea and pastries that I bought from a shop down the block. I'm not much of a baker, myself.

Our conspiracy is a small one inside a larger one. The outer one is widespread and growing. The inner is small and will not get any bigger. There's only one way into our circle, and none of us is pregnant.

"I know where Pherios is," I told them. That caused a stir. We all believed he was still alive, and that Vethru had him. But Vethru's people were fanatically loyal. I know every damn jarl and herse in Vanheim, and I couldn't find anyone who knew anything about Pherios in the four months I've been searching for him.

"How?" one of them asked.

"You will not believe me when I tell you. We have a friend on the inside."

They were of course suspicious. "Can you trust him?"

We can trust her, I thought, and I smiled. I told them everything. Fate had tipped her scales toward us, at least for a time. We discussed our options, and when the meeting ended, our plans were set. They would take time to unfold, and there was danger ahead for all of us. But when they did...Vethru thought Pherios was trouble. Hah! He hasn't seen trouble until he's seen us.

[PashaDawg]

The Peaceful Dominion of Tien Chi received a message from the Great Dominion of Marignon. The message declared war!! Was this intentional?

Pasha Tzu

[Sedna]

Pashsa Tzu,

I would like to apologize for the mistaken declaration of war you received. In fact, we wished to declare war upon your UNholy nation*. The scribe responsible has, as always, been burnt to death. An announcement regarding this shall shortly be posted in the public square.

Father Muszinger

*The same correction applies to other declarations of war which may or may not have gone forth this month.

[PashaDawg]

Beware! You've awoken the Sleeping Tien Chi Dragon!

[Sedna]

Muszinger

Muszinger climbed the stair.

At the top, the pulpit where he would give his Carrofactum homily. In his pouch, a sealed letter from Afti-el to be opened at the end of the world, about half an hour from now when the great cathedral bells tolled midnight.

Muszinger was tired as he climbed. Nine years as head of the inquisition, and four of those during this last period of upheaval, which some heretic scribes called the Ascension Wars, reflecting various fools' recent claims to Godhood. The priests of Marignon knew better. God alone conquers. These tribulations were but preparing this drab world for the LORD's triumphant return.

'God', and it was both a prayer and a sigh. The end couldn't come soon enough. Muszinger was not as sure as when he'd started. Not as sure about the righteousness of the inquisition. He had tortured to death his last child only hours before, and good riddance to be done with that messy business. Tired, so tired.

Muszinger reached the pulpit and gazed out into the cavernous cathedral, filled with the Southern Army-- 'My army', thought Muszinger, 'My support through the Archbishop Marignon's grab for power'. They were all in battle garb of course, the knights' golden armor particularly stunning. The candles reflected off every metal weapon and bathed in every red-orange uniform. It looked like the sun itself was squeezed into the stone walls.

Muszinger began to speak.

He told the faithful the oldest story, the only story. Of a creator whose creation went awry, and of a God who came down to fix it. Then it was time for the traditional Carrofactum reading. 'How many times,' he asked himself, 'have you read or heard this passage?'

In the soft light he looked at the beautiful ornaments on the huge leather tome. His fingers turned easily to the passage...

"But the LORD did not leave us alone, nor did He foresake His people. For even as He ascended into the clouds He spoke one final time unto mortal ears and his command was seared upon their hearts and written on their minds: 'Keep though, the month of my coming sacred, and when you have remembered me two thousand times, there suddenly I shall be among you again.' "

And now Muszinger was reciting completely by heart:


I am the Alpha, the Iota, the Omega

I am the deathless roar of the pounding surf...

I am the still, small voice in the wilderness...

I am every new born infant's cry-- every last death rattle.

I am the Alone. One before numbers had meaning...

I am the indwelling soul of everyone...

I am beyond the other side of everything.

I am Faithful, and Pure and Holy.


Muszinger's voice trembled in awe as he finished the chant. Did he hear another voice taking us his words? Was that God, here now in the room, speaking alongside him? Muszinger's hand seemed to be glowing and slightly translucent, and it shook slightly as he closed the great book one last time.

"Tonight, we celebrate Carrofactum as we have celebrated it for two thousand years since the LORD's coming. Tonight the length of the world is measured in minutes and we shall all be lifted up, far beyond the sky. In the the twinkling of an eye we shall all be brought home, and the LORD will walk among us again, and wipe away every tear from our eye."

Muszinger paused. He felt some great magic rushing through the room. For a moment he thought... but, no... it was too soon. And Muszinger remembered that in the depths of the old broken tower Polgrave was struggling to bring a great magical being into the world: Catharsis, the spirit of cleansing fire. Afti-el had approved the project, but Muszinger was not easy. What need was there to bring some great warrior spirit into a world so much on the brink?

Turning back to the crowd, Muszinger spoke of the dead, the martyrs and saints who had sustained the Church through all the long dark years.

"Soon, very soon, we shall be reunited with them. What will that be like? To sit at the LORD's table with the greatest heroes of a forgotten age?"

A bell tolled

Suddenly it was all too much. This was it, the end.

A bell tolled.

Muszinger ripped open the letter in his pouch. What instructions did the LORD's right-hand servant have for him? Confused, Muszinger saw they were the attack plans he had laid out for fighting Marignon's enemies.

A bell tolled.

But, by the grace of God, an uneasy truce had been maintained for the last final months of the world, so... so...

A bell tolled.

Here was a note from Afti-el. But his hands were trembling too hard.

A bell tolled.

'You are immediately to implement the enclosed attack plans.'

A bell tolled.

That was it. That was all. No word about the end of the world. No news about the LORD's return.

A bell tolled.

The crowd was growing frantic now, hanging on each reverberation.

A bell tolled.

These were long range plans, for a war of many months at least. A hard strike against Man and C'tis, the two most dangerous. Force them to defend their turf for a few months.

A bell tolled.

And then... pull back and fight hard for every piece of land. The overwhelming numbers would force the defenders of Marignon back, and back further, scorching and burning the lands they had spent so long gaining, but always delaying the advance, protecting the great cathedral at Marignon.

A bell tolled.

It was not a plan to win. Only a plan to delay. Only a plan to hold off foes until this moment.

A bell tolled.

Maybe, it was all some mistake. But Muszinger knew that Afti-el did not make such mistakes.

A bell tolled.




Later, as he marched east, at the head of a fey army beyond hope and faith, he looked back to the broken tower and saw it shimmering in a sickly green light.