Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
04-19-2010, 04:49 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Baphomet.
Vexmagog had passed off the right arm, fairly convincingly, as an attempted curse by the shadow devils, which had failed to take root by virtue of the shadow-destroying golden spear. He had fastidiously enumerated the history of this false artifact, its illuminating properties, and its sharpness too great to even feel its pierce. He had told tales about the many great battles he had fought with it, even working some of the gods they had mentioned into them. With matters of faith, such as the ones these women participated in, the details told in riddles and rhymes by men in a drug-induced trance could easily be overruled by a living, breathing otherworldly presence telling you how it really happened. Mohea and the majority of the now-doting gaggle of followers were enthralled. All but one. Nalu did not seem to have the same temperament as the others, and perhaps had been eager to rebel against their shamaness's telling of their fate for a reason besides self-preservation.
Vexmagog's interest was piqued by the women's powerful matriarchal society, and the more debaucherous side of him was attracted to Mohea purely for the challenge presented in making a leader of this group his. This attraction led him to fail to notice as Nalu backed up from the group and fell into step in front of Blitz.
Mohea gestured toward the towering temple grounds as it first came into view through the dense trees, and Vexmagog feigned familiarity. In truth, he was faltering - not because of the imposing physical facade presented by the temple's outer adornments, but because of something more subtle.
After decades, he sank in. He fell deep into his prison-hole, and deigned to offer his presence to the lord of that pit. He found, instead, that his form of chaos was not entirely absent from his warden. He found cracks and crevices that he could slip in, and with effort, widen. It was easier in the beginning, but the pit learned soon enough to hamper his intrusion. It could not, however, stop him entirely, and its attention was often devoted to other things.
In these times, Magog felt his influence widen beyond the scope of his prison-pit. The order-shapes were his to mold, albeit more slowly, and in a much more limited capacity than before. Except in some places. Places owned by other gods. This chaos named Vexmagog was not opposed to order, but rather allied with six other forces, each with their own place. These places could not be corrupted, could not be shaped. It was in these places that Vexmagog would often indulge in his passions, teasing Magog at his inability to stop him.
Soon, chaos Vexmagog was torn from his access to these places. He was told to battle to the death with seven others, now six. Magog rejoiced, and redoubled his efforts. He sought a form that was suitably chaotic, and soon found six. Small, circular, nearly unlimited potential, and protected only by tooth and green nail.
His pursuit of the objects was hampered by Vexmagog's discovery. How he found this eighth unchanging place was lost to Magog, but its looming stone entry and its immutability told Magog one thing:
A god lives here.[/color]
Vexmagog found translation of the pejorative difficult, as it represented a concept not present in his native vocabulary. His best guess was that it referred to a man immune to the effects of the ko-uki fungus, the compound responsible for the seers' visions, and thus a man resigned to a life of menial labor. Regardless, he stepped in to defuse the tense situation.
"Nalu, please. This is not a man of your world, here by no fault of his own. I ask that you treat him with the respect you would give the other women." His barely-contained smirk was apparently invisible to the others, as Nalu took a step back and Mohea was apparently awed by his kindness to the lesser beings.
Blitz was visibly shaken by the encounter, but Vexmagog decided that going so far as to help him up would show weakness to the women, who were still wary of a dominant male presence. Instead, he altered the sounds of the wind and the trees and the native fauna in Blitz's mind.
Get up. We're here.[/color]
That is, they had not, until this morning. All 59 men jolted upright in unison, their eyes lolling back in their heads, their hands frantically grabbing their own faces, their chests. She had nearly keeled over in fright, and had barely composed herself before they shocked her again.
The men had spoken, in unison, their voices reverberating through the stone chamber. "The world will end," they said. "Seven devils will arrive, and the world will end."
Following the outburst, a unified dull thud as they all fell back down to the rugs at the same time. She was speechless, but had passed on the message to her tribe. That was her duty.
A duty she was having a hard time attending to again, after such a revelation. Clarity of message was not something she was accustomed to dealing with, and knowing that such clarity was possible left her present task feeling hollow. Had all the messages she had delivered dutifully from the gods in the past been mere ramblings of these stupefied men? Had the gods truly been silent on all these other affairs? Had her methods of divination, passed down from her mother, and from her mother's mother, on and on as long as anyone could remember, been based not on this insistent droning in which she was currently immersed, but on absolute definitive messages such as this morning's?
Her thoughts were interrupted by another woman entering through the curtained chamber door. She bowed low, as was customary, and delivered her message.
They had captured one of the devils.[/color]
Not knowing his disposition, but recalling his "allegiance" with Sen, Vexmagog proceeded with a short acknowledgment. "He is one of the seven. Please try not to kill him, but be wary. I have not gauged his temperament yet."
The interior of the temple was as exquisitely adorned as the exterior, if not more so. The walls were lined with golden carvings. The entry hall was immense, with many passages veering off further into the mountainside. It was clear that a small tribe such as this one could live exclusively inside this structure without need for additional shelter.
Walls and ceiling sloped to meet a point high above the center of the wall opposite the entrance. It was at that far point that the group was led, towards the most heavily-adorned doorway.
The women stopped Blitz's approach with a simple head shake. Vexmagog nodded to him, and he stood still with the women at the entrance. Vexmagog along with Mohea, Nalu, and a handful of others entered the tunnel.
At the end of the darkened hallway was another, smaller room, with curtained doors leading off in both directions. At the far wall, the shamaness sat, flanked by several other women beside her, while still more were surrounding something in the center. Vexmagog noticed a few men as well, sitting dutifully with their heads bowed, their eyes never straying up to the level of the women.
The women ceased their unidentifiable action and parted, revealing Steven bound on the floor in their midst, while Nalu ducked out a side passage. They had evidently been interrogating him, but it was not clear what had transpired or how long he had been there. He turned and saw Vexmagog, his face shifting rapidly between a wide range of emotions. "[/color]Vex!" he began with excitement, quickly shifting to disappointment, "They got you..." There was a pause as his eyes darted over the woman hanging on his side, then confusion. "...Too?"
Quickly realizing that, thanks to the language barrier, Steven could not have told them anything to compromise his lies, he ignored the man for now. Building and maintaining connections with as many visible parties as he currently found himself in the scrutiny of was especally taxing, and he left Steven out of the equation to save the effort, save for a brief "Stay quiet," shifted from the crackle of torches.
Nothing could go wrong. Vexmagog had been preparing for this moment. He bowed low and began crafting his masterpiece.
The torch-cast lights dimmed low in the presence of the warm, radiant glow now shining forth from Vexmagog, head bowed, arms outstretched. His voice came with the same warming quality as the light, and seemed to carry with it kindness and familiarity. "Greetings to the people," he began, not raising his head until he finished, "I am Vexmagog, God of Light. I have come to save you."
He stood, keeping his arms outstretched, his cloak spread wide behind him. His entirely-blue, alien eyes met the shamaness's, and some of the light around him focused, took shape, and congealed in his right hand as a golden spear. "Seven shadow devils have come to this island to end it, bringing with them seven beings from another world, whose bodies they mean to steal. These beings are here of no fault of their own, and that man," he pointed to Steven, "is one of them. I ask that you spare their lives."
Everyone present was shocked into inaction. Several of the women backed away from Steven, while some stood resolute. After an appropriate pause, the shamaness (apparently aware of the rules of theatricality herself) spoke up. "Vexmagog. I have never heard such a name spoken in the people's history. How are you unknown to me?"
Vexmagog responded quickly and with confidence. "The shadow devils have long labored to wipe my name from your history. They believe, falsely, that my protection of you and all born of this land will cease if I am forgotten. They may have worn away my images in this temple, and taken the memory of me from your ancestors, but I have returned at last from many long years of imprisonment to end them forever. I ask only for you to assist these other beings. Take them in as your own. Do them no harm. With your promise, I would return to my hunt."
"We saw one of the shadows," Mohea interjected, placing a hand on Vexmagog's arm. "It attacked us, but he killed it with his golden spear."
Another pause. A look of deep concern etched itself slowly across the elderly woman's face. "This is a lot to take in. I find it more likely that this is some sort of trick. Prove to me that you are a genuine god, and you will have my promise."
Vexmagog's heart raced. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, the coup de grace. It would make or break his performance here. He held back the smile itching to spread across his face, sighed deeply, and replied, "Very well."
With that simple utterance, he hurled the golden spear directly into the chest of the shamaness.
The women jumped in shock and began to shout as they saw her body go limp and fall to the ground. Vexmagog held his hands high and bade them be still in a deep voice. "She is with me now, and I will bring her back," he said, stepping towards the body.
The shaman woman saw the spear pierce her breast and embed itself. she felt no pain at the wound, only cold. Her entire body went numb, her vision grew dark, and everything went still and quiet.
Out of the black stepped a figure. Vexmagog, shrouded in light, smiling. She tried to speak, but found herself unable. "Do not fear, Amali. This is not your time."
He placed his four-fingered hand over her heart where the spear had pierced, and she felt warmth return to her.
The women watched as Vexmagog walked over to the body, grasped the spear firmly, and pulled it out. The wound instantly closed, and no blood spilled from it. The spear disappeared in a shower of golden flakes, and Amali's eyes opened with a gasp.
Steven, however, had the most amusing perspective on the proceedings. Vexmagog entered, spoke gibberish, spread his arms wide, and flung an empty arm in the woman's direction. Her attendants started and quickly ceased shouting, while the woman herself gained a blank expression and started speaking haltingly, as if she couldn't hear what she was saying. Vexmagog walked up to her as she lost her balance and tipped over, guided her down to the ground, then pantomimed pulling something out of her chest.
"You have my promise," she said, after checking her chest and allowing her breathing to return to a more normal rate. "If there is anything we can do to help you, please..."
"Now that you mention it," he replied with a smile, "this physical form is in need of some nourishment, as I'm sure are the bodies of the outsiders."
"Yes. Yes, a feast is certainly in order. I will send out the remainder of my huntresses to locate the others, and tell those that have already departed the news."
"Good. One thing, though. One of the outsiders should be dealt with differently: a large green beast with a long tail. While I would still prefer that it not be killed, it is... well, dangerous. Both to your huntresses and to me. As it is not a shadow being, it is almost more dangerous to me than they would be. I am obligated in this form to obey certain rules. I am not sure whether it has been corrupted by shadow devils, or it is simply a feral beast. Regardless, it should be captured, subdued, and I would like to enlist the aid of the huntresses and the other outsiders in that task."
"If it poses a danger to us, why not kill it now?"
"The shadows can only hold as many outsiders here as their numbers. This beast is the most dangerous thing they have found so far, but who knows what other types of beasts they will pull involuntarily into this world if they are given another opening?"
"I see. As you wish, you and the outsiders will be alerted when the creature is found."
Vexmagog smiled and nodded sagely. He shot Steven a knowing wink as some of the women moved to untie him. Vexmagog turned and left, Mohea following close behind.
Nalu silently stood from her spying position beyond the curtain separating the room from the side hall. While she wasn't sure exactly what had just transpired, she had the gist of it. The horned one was tricking the shaman, and everyone else in the camp. Rather than indignation, she felt something else.
She felt an opportunity.
She quietly retreated down the side hall and returned to her living area.
Vexmagog had passed off the right arm, fairly convincingly, as an attempted curse by the shadow devils, which had failed to take root by virtue of the shadow-destroying golden spear. He had fastidiously enumerated the history of this false artifact, its illuminating properties, and its sharpness too great to even feel its pierce. He had told tales about the many great battles he had fought with it, even working some of the gods they had mentioned into them. With matters of faith, such as the ones these women participated in, the details told in riddles and rhymes by men in a drug-induced trance could easily be overruled by a living, breathing otherworldly presence telling you how it really happened. Mohea and the majority of the now-doting gaggle of followers were enthralled. All but one. Nalu did not seem to have the same temperament as the others, and perhaps had been eager to rebel against their shamaness's telling of their fate for a reason besides self-preservation.
Vexmagog's interest was piqued by the women's powerful matriarchal society, and the more debaucherous side of him was attracted to Mohea purely for the challenge presented in making a leader of this group his. This attraction led him to fail to notice as Nalu backed up from the group and fell into step in front of Blitz.
Mohea gestured toward the towering temple grounds as it first came into view through the dense trees, and Vexmagog feigned familiarity. In truth, he was faltering - not because of the imposing physical facade presented by the temple's outer adornments, but because of something more subtle.
__________________________________________________ _____________________
Born form Magog strained to find himself sleeping, but could not. He strained to peel back the edges of order around him, but was limited by this new piece of himself. He tried to dream about things that were not of this new consciousness's experience, but was again limited. He was now the dream, but no longer the dreamer. Not a spiral, but a vertical line at which he was not the top; omnipotent, but impotent.After decades, he sank in. He fell deep into his prison-hole, and deigned to offer his presence to the lord of that pit. He found, instead, that his form of chaos was not entirely absent from his warden. He found cracks and crevices that he could slip in, and with effort, widen. It was easier in the beginning, but the pit learned soon enough to hamper his intrusion. It could not, however, stop him entirely, and its attention was often devoted to other things.
In these times, Magog felt his influence widen beyond the scope of his prison-pit. The order-shapes were his to mold, albeit more slowly, and in a much more limited capacity than before. Except in some places. Places owned by other gods. This chaos named Vexmagog was not opposed to order, but rather allied with six other forces, each with their own place. These places could not be corrupted, could not be shaped. It was in these places that Vexmagog would often indulge in his passions, teasing Magog at his inability to stop him.
Soon, chaos Vexmagog was torn from his access to these places. He was told to battle to the death with seven others, now six. Magog rejoiced, and redoubled his efforts. He sought a form that was suitably chaotic, and soon found six. Small, circular, nearly unlimited potential, and protected only by tooth and green nail.
His pursuit of the objects was hampered by Vexmagog's discovery. How he found this eighth unchanging place was lost to Magog, but its looming stone entry and its immutability told Magog one thing:
A god lives here.[/color]
__________________________________________________ _____________________
Nalu's steady gait before Blitz ceased suddenly so as to cause him to bump into her. For this slight, he was shoved to the ground and menaced by the business end of one of the many spears slung across the woman's back. "Watch who you touch, uki-na," she spat in his direction, doubtless aware that he would not understand.Vexmagog found translation of the pejorative difficult, as it represented a concept not present in his native vocabulary. His best guess was that it referred to a man immune to the effects of the ko-uki fungus, the compound responsible for the seers' visions, and thus a man resigned to a life of menial labor. Regardless, he stepped in to defuse the tense situation.
"Nalu, please. This is not a man of your world, here by no fault of his own. I ask that you treat him with the respect you would give the other women." His barely-contained smirk was apparently invisible to the others, as Nalu took a step back and Mohea was apparently awed by his kindness to the lesser beings.
Blitz was visibly shaken by the encounter, but Vexmagog decided that going so far as to help him up would show weakness to the women, who were still wary of a dominant male presence. Instead, he altered the sounds of the wind and the trees and the native fauna in Blitz's mind.
Get up. We're here.[/color]
__________________________________________________ _____________________
Shamaness Amali knelt beside one of the prone male figures adorning the chamber. Turgid mumblings, incoherent but lyrical, escaped their lips as they rolled about the decorative rugs covering the stone floor. The aged woman's eyes closed as she took in the hum, the ever-changing song whose lyrics it was her job alone to discern. Such a task had been shrouded in riddles and mysteries - tongues tied by the sight of the divine did not speak plainly, after all.That is, they had not, until this morning. All 59 men jolted upright in unison, their eyes lolling back in their heads, their hands frantically grabbing their own faces, their chests. She had nearly keeled over in fright, and had barely composed herself before they shocked her again.
The men had spoken, in unison, their voices reverberating through the stone chamber. "The world will end," they said. "Seven devils will arrive, and the world will end."
Following the outburst, a unified dull thud as they all fell back down to the rugs at the same time. She was speechless, but had passed on the message to her tribe. That was her duty.
A duty she was having a hard time attending to again, after such a revelation. Clarity of message was not something she was accustomed to dealing with, and knowing that such clarity was possible left her present task feeling hollow. Had all the messages she had delivered dutifully from the gods in the past been mere ramblings of these stupefied men? Had the gods truly been silent on all these other affairs? Had her methods of divination, passed down from her mother, and from her mother's mother, on and on as long as anyone could remember, been based not on this insistent droning in which she was currently immersed, but on absolute definitive messages such as this morning's?
Her thoughts were interrupted by another woman entering through the curtained chamber door. She bowed low, as was customary, and delivered her message.
They had captured one of the devils.[/color]
__________________________________________________ _____________________
Vexmagog followed Mohea to the round stone opening of the temple, but the women trailing behind began shouting and drew their spears at something in the jungle. Vexmagog turned in time to see Wolf, who shied away from the attention and retreated back into the cover of the foliage.Not knowing his disposition, but recalling his "allegiance" with Sen, Vexmagog proceeded with a short acknowledgment. "He is one of the seven. Please try not to kill him, but be wary. I have not gauged his temperament yet."
The interior of the temple was as exquisitely adorned as the exterior, if not more so. The walls were lined with golden carvings. The entry hall was immense, with many passages veering off further into the mountainside. It was clear that a small tribe such as this one could live exclusively inside this structure without need for additional shelter.
Walls and ceiling sloped to meet a point high above the center of the wall opposite the entrance. It was at that far point that the group was led, towards the most heavily-adorned doorway.
The women stopped Blitz's approach with a simple head shake. Vexmagog nodded to him, and he stood still with the women at the entrance. Vexmagog along with Mohea, Nalu, and a handful of others entered the tunnel.
At the end of the darkened hallway was another, smaller room, with curtained doors leading off in both directions. At the far wall, the shamaness sat, flanked by several other women beside her, while still more were surrounding something in the center. Vexmagog noticed a few men as well, sitting dutifully with their heads bowed, their eyes never straying up to the level of the women.
The women ceased their unidentifiable action and parted, revealing Steven bound on the floor in their midst, while Nalu ducked out a side passage. They had evidently been interrogating him, but it was not clear what had transpired or how long he had been there. He turned and saw Vexmagog, his face shifting rapidly between a wide range of emotions. "[/color]Vex!" he began with excitement, quickly shifting to disappointment, "They got you..." There was a pause as his eyes darted over the woman hanging on his side, then confusion. "...Too?"
Quickly realizing that, thanks to the language barrier, Steven could not have told them anything to compromise his lies, he ignored the man for now. Building and maintaining connections with as many visible parties as he currently found himself in the scrutiny of was especally taxing, and he left Steven out of the equation to save the effort, save for a brief "Stay quiet," shifted from the crackle of torches.
Nothing could go wrong. Vexmagog had been preparing for this moment. He bowed low and began crafting his masterpiece.
The torch-cast lights dimmed low in the presence of the warm, radiant glow now shining forth from Vexmagog, head bowed, arms outstretched. His voice came with the same warming quality as the light, and seemed to carry with it kindness and familiarity. "Greetings to the people," he began, not raising his head until he finished, "I am Vexmagog, God of Light. I have come to save you."
He stood, keeping his arms outstretched, his cloak spread wide behind him. His entirely-blue, alien eyes met the shamaness's, and some of the light around him focused, took shape, and congealed in his right hand as a golden spear. "Seven shadow devils have come to this island to end it, bringing with them seven beings from another world, whose bodies they mean to steal. These beings are here of no fault of their own, and that man," he pointed to Steven, "is one of them. I ask that you spare their lives."
Everyone present was shocked into inaction. Several of the women backed away from Steven, while some stood resolute. After an appropriate pause, the shamaness (apparently aware of the rules of theatricality herself) spoke up. "Vexmagog. I have never heard such a name spoken in the people's history. How are you unknown to me?"
Vexmagog responded quickly and with confidence. "The shadow devils have long labored to wipe my name from your history. They believe, falsely, that my protection of you and all born of this land will cease if I am forgotten. They may have worn away my images in this temple, and taken the memory of me from your ancestors, but I have returned at last from many long years of imprisonment to end them forever. I ask only for you to assist these other beings. Take them in as your own. Do them no harm. With your promise, I would return to my hunt."
"We saw one of the shadows," Mohea interjected, placing a hand on Vexmagog's arm. "It attacked us, but he killed it with his golden spear."
Another pause. A look of deep concern etched itself slowly across the elderly woman's face. "This is a lot to take in. I find it more likely that this is some sort of trick. Prove to me that you are a genuine god, and you will have my promise."
Vexmagog's heart raced. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, the coup de grace. It would make or break his performance here. He held back the smile itching to spread across his face, sighed deeply, and replied, "Very well."
With that simple utterance, he hurled the golden spear directly into the chest of the shamaness.
The women jumped in shock and began to shout as they saw her body go limp and fall to the ground. Vexmagog held his hands high and bade them be still in a deep voice. "She is with me now, and I will bring her back," he said, stepping towards the body.
The shaman woman saw the spear pierce her breast and embed itself. she felt no pain at the wound, only cold. Her entire body went numb, her vision grew dark, and everything went still and quiet.
Out of the black stepped a figure. Vexmagog, shrouded in light, smiling. She tried to speak, but found herself unable. "Do not fear, Amali. This is not your time."
He placed his four-fingered hand over her heart where the spear had pierced, and she felt warmth return to her.
The women watched as Vexmagog walked over to the body, grasped the spear firmly, and pulled it out. The wound instantly closed, and no blood spilled from it. The spear disappeared in a shower of golden flakes, and Amali's eyes opened with a gasp.
Steven, however, had the most amusing perspective on the proceedings. Vexmagog entered, spoke gibberish, spread his arms wide, and flung an empty arm in the woman's direction. Her attendants started and quickly ceased shouting, while the woman herself gained a blank expression and started speaking haltingly, as if she couldn't hear what she was saying. Vexmagog walked up to her as she lost her balance and tipped over, guided her down to the ground, then pantomimed pulling something out of her chest.
"You have my promise," she said, after checking her chest and allowing her breathing to return to a more normal rate. "If there is anything we can do to help you, please..."
"Now that you mention it," he replied with a smile, "this physical form is in need of some nourishment, as I'm sure are the bodies of the outsiders."
"Yes. Yes, a feast is certainly in order. I will send out the remainder of my huntresses to locate the others, and tell those that have already departed the news."
"Good. One thing, though. One of the outsiders should be dealt with differently: a large green beast with a long tail. While I would still prefer that it not be killed, it is... well, dangerous. Both to your huntresses and to me. As it is not a shadow being, it is almost more dangerous to me than they would be. I am obligated in this form to obey certain rules. I am not sure whether it has been corrupted by shadow devils, or it is simply a feral beast. Regardless, it should be captured, subdued, and I would like to enlist the aid of the huntresses and the other outsiders in that task."
"If it poses a danger to us, why not kill it now?"
"The shadows can only hold as many outsiders here as their numbers. This beast is the most dangerous thing they have found so far, but who knows what other types of beasts they will pull involuntarily into this world if they are given another opening?"
"I see. As you wish, you and the outsiders will be alerted when the creature is found."
Vexmagog smiled and nodded sagely. He shot Steven a knowing wink as some of the women moved to untie him. Vexmagog turned and left, Mohea following close behind.
Nalu silently stood from her spying position beyond the curtain separating the room from the side hall. While she wasn't sure exactly what had just transpired, she had the gist of it. The horned one was tricking the shaman, and everyone else in the camp. Rather than indignation, she felt something else.
She felt an opportunity.
She quietly retreated down the side hall and returned to her living area.