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Post by Taun-Lok on Feb 3, 2017 6:11:28 GMT
Taun-Lok had left Mirielle with his brothers and sisters to guard her, giving her free reign throughout the City for a time while he went to deal with other matters. Matters of Faith, his own recently shattered and fractured by the revelations found in the Forbidden Temple. What Path should he take? What destiny lied before him? And without the Gods, how could his destiny have purpose? The questions rattled around in his mind, ancient and wise, but he could find no answer. The golden scroll still in his pouch the Priest-King made for the Golden Pyramid where his Ancestors had laid their lives down to protect five false gods, manifestations of his predecessors lust for power. As he approached, he could see them. Hetan, an elder Riverscale, his closest rival in age and authority lead the other Ancients at the base of the Pyramid. Where Taun-Lok was relatively kind and understanding of outsiders, understanding that his culture and theirs greatly differed, Hetan was a feral monstrosity. He often fed outsiders that so much as spoke to him to his Bonded Dragon-Turtle and was renowned in the rivers for his hit and run tactics. Behind Hetan followed a half dozen others, including one of Taun-Lok's kin, a venerable Sunblood. At least one of every race was represented in the group, all elders in their own right. Hetan had a note already written in his clawed green hands, waiting for the Priest-King to arrive so that it could be personally delivered. At least so far the group had decided to be polite with written speech rather than confront him openly and verbally. That meant a coup attempt wasn't the plan as of yet. You took an outsider into the Holy Inner Sanctum, and they were not a Sacrifice but instead communed with the Gods at your instruction by the look of blood on her.
We Demand an explanation for such a grievous misuse of your authority.Taun-Lok sneered at the message, curling his lips up at Hetan who was rather pleased with himself, smug and confident. Taun-Lok scribbled with a piece of charcoal on the note and passed it back to them. While in my travels, I summoned Totutl for Guidance with the Horned King's bones. When he appeared, she saw him, and he spoke with her, directing her to the city. I inferred she had Divine Purpose, and brought her to commune with all of the Gods in response.
They offered her help, and then they showed me the way. It pained Taun-Lok to right the words he knew to be false. There was no telling why Totutl, Lord of the Sky, had acknowledged the Princess and now, her purpose wasn't even divine. Even the Gods weren't divine in truth. Hetan and the others read the message with varying degrees of emotions, mostly rage from Hetan who had ruled the city in Taun-Lok's stead for a full year and was likely not keen on giving up such authority. The others seemed more understanding, the massive Elder Beastspawn representing the sons and daughters of Jag-Gar in Dormak's stead nodded and bid the group farewell, pleased enough with the response. Dormak was the massive Gate Warden of the City of Gold who had protected the Gates of the City for almost one hundred years. Despite his race's feral nature, they were actually quite docile and understanding up to the point where they were convinced they had been wronged. With one of his supporters already gone, Hetan seemed incensed at the notion that an Outsider could be anything but a sacrifice, much less hold some divinity and favor with the Gods. "< What proof do you have.>" And politeness abandoned him at the first sign that things would not go his way. Taun-Lok decided not to respond in kind, but to reassert his dominance over the city. It had been a year, and now he was being openly spoken to, his word questioned, and his testimony of the God's will which was his right to interpret was being doubted. A physical confrontation was necessary in this matter. With the full force of his right hand, Taun-Lok rocked Hetan by striking the smaller green scaled lizard man in the lower jaw as hard as he could, causing Hetan to stumble and fall to the ground in surprise. Surprised and confused, Hetan started to rise with a roar, but even as he got his feet back from under him Taun-Lok's brow was pressed against his own, pressing down on the green warrior in a display of dominance and authority. Hetan had few options in this scenario. To fight back would turn the confrontation into a full blown civil war with very few supporters, if any outside his own race. Even they would likely be split between those loyal to him as Taun-Lok's people were loyal to their Eldest, and those Loyal to the Priest-King. To attempt to rise anyway would allow him to gauge how powerful his king truly was in some respect but would also be establishing his intent in challenging the older, stronger, larger warrior-priest in a ritual duel to the death. And to sit on the ground would be to submit to his King's will and authority, crushing any chances at power he currently held. The growl in the green warrior's throat died away and the warrior lowered his head in respect and submission. Had he held his tongue it was possible that the outcome would have been different. The other elders watched impassively, waiting for order to be restored and the conversation to continue. Once Hetan slunk into the back of the group to watch rather than lead, Taun-Lok responded to the question with another note. I speak with the Voice of the Gods still. Her purpose remains divine and she is to be given the respect as though she was one of the People. She has shown me the way.
The Second Cataclysm is coming. Sooner rather than later. In my lifetime it will arrive at our gates and our people are woefully prepared to resist it. If we do not change, we will not survive. If we do not take the fight to our enemies, we will not survive. The elder Kronotoan read the message first and looked up at the priest-king in surprise, hastily scribbling another note. I have seen its coming, evil eyes I have stared into in my dreams but I do not know the way. I do not know how to put an end to my visions of doom. For if the Gods have foreseen it, it will come to pass.
"< No. Not all the Gods warn us of will come to pass. Some are warnings of the future we are moving towards.>" Whether that was true, Taun-Lok didn't know but he chose to believe it today. After all he had seen and learned, he chose to believe One could make their own destiny.
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Post by Taun-Lok on Feb 3, 2017 6:56:03 GMT
The elders conversed with the Priest-King for several moments longer, discussing what preparations needed to be made and providing the Priest-King with updates on the city's situation and upkeep. Outsiders had been visiting the city much more often than ever before, and more of them were able to slip through the mist. The Elders doubted it was because fewer people that traveled into the jungles meant the City no ill will, but instead that the Magic guarding the City was fading slowly. It might last another full generation, and that would be long enough, but while it faded its enchantments too would slowly fade and become less powerful. The chances of an army invading the city still seemed slim, not without a very brave, very confident commander who could maintain the confidence and hearts of their army marching through the mists. It was not the generals that would be deterred, but the army itself. When marching through a jungle that was already laborious and difficult, filled with dangers and obstacles, and then groups of people having feelings of paranoia, the sensation of being hopelessly lost, and other types of minor psychosis, an army tended to lose its focus. Something the City of Gold benefited from greatly, giving the relatively small population of Crokodons a save haven. Hetan left with his instructions, knowing that he would be given his own Temple in central Ardell boosted his mood, though it also served to move the vicious and more feral fanatics from the City of Gold so that Taun-Lok could begin making changes to their society without the strongest dissenters being present to oppose his will. It was dangerous to give him a power base to build on his own without direct oversight, but given that the Lake Country was mostly populated by Undead, the fanatics would have their enemy to fight and remain occupied. The Priest-King and the elder Kronotoan, Vexuatl, made their way up the four hundred twenty five golden stairs with a sacrifice in tow. The Priest-King intended to show the scroll to the elder and gain his help in restoring the old ways, the ancient Kronotoan able to see the past with his Mage-Sight like no other and holding significant sway in those that had stronger and more frequent visions of prophecy, the remnant of the old Oracle Caste. This scroll was found by our guest. She recovered it in the Forbidden Temple at the Gods' orders. The Mage Caste had it hidden there, but as you can see it is divine. Not corrupted or tainted.
It details how the Gods made our defenses. How they built the Inner Sanctum, but I cannot decipher it alone. Neither can you. We will need their help. The Elder nodded knowingly, passing a response to the Priest-King in his normal elegant script as the pair made their way up the golden pyramid. Part of Taun-Lok felt sympathy, even guilt at the notion of killing the woman, probably around Mirielle's age to summon the false Gods forth, but it needed to be done. There had to be a purpose that speaking to them required a life, even if it was the life of an outsider. They often work in ways we cannot fully understand, but their hand is there. Always guiding us in our lives and in our deaths. Which of the rituals is needed?
Taun-Lok ached to tell the Elder that the Gods were fake, that they were nothing but long dead specters of their ancestors that did not leave. That there was no celestial home where they would rejoin the gods in paradise and that their species had not been raised from the mud to serve at their bidding, but he could not. Even he who had seen the truth of the matter still didn't want to believe it, so he could not expect his words to be understood by anyone yet. That time would come soon enough. Indeed they do, but I have looked at the scroll some and the third ritual details a binding of spirits to a body. I want to know everything about that ritual. How it is accomplished, what bodies are eligible, how many times it had been used, everything.
The Kronotoan ruffled his feathers and shook, reading over the golden scroll carefully as they arrived at the pyramid's peak. The scroll did not mention how to summon those spirits or what powers those spirits would possess later, only that they would not be able to pass on to the other side once the ritual was complete, that they would be stuck bound inside the physical body they were bound to. Perhaps another scroll detailed how to commune with those types of spirits, though it was already common knowledge to the Lizard people of the City of Gold. Everyone of them knew the process of summoning the Gods. I also want to adjust the Inner Sanctum in accordance to their will. I want the walls and doors to open so that all can see inside. The pyramid was built so that such an act would be possible once, but it was closed and locked during the War of the Dead.
Another Lie. All his life he had never seen the purpose of a lie, in fact he could not remember every lying to anyone before today. It was during the War of the Dead indeed, but it had been the Horned King that had sealed the Gods away in his mad grab for power, hiding them from the population and establishing himself as the People's link to their gods had cemented his reign, and then slaying his competition and those that would not submit to his rule had etched it into history. The door to the Inner Sanctum opened, and the summoning ritual began. The bleeding and eating of the heart of the woman they had brought up to the peak of the pyramid and the bodies of the Gods absorbing her blood into their bones to grant them a few moments of borrowed time in the material realm.
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Post by Taun-Lok on Feb 3, 2017 7:42:10 GMT
The Gods, or Ancestor Spirits as Taun-Lok now knew them, coalesced into their translucent blue forms around their bodies once again. Despite his feelings of betrayal, the Priest-King still knelt at their presence. Be it habit or that despite the fact they were not truly Gods he still held a great deal of reverence for the five beings he didn't know yet. The Kronotoan waited outside for the Priest-King to return with word from the Gods at Taun-Lok's request. Any other day and Taun-Lok would have been grateful to have the elder accompany him and commune with the Gods at his side, but not today. The Priest-King had not yet decided who and what he would tell the people of the City of Gold and he was not yet willing to turn their world upside down in a single night.
"<Great Totutl. I have been deceived. I ask for your guidance in translating this ritual and for explanations.>"
"All that you needed to know was revealed to your ancestors. All that can be known was given unto them at great cost." The spirit said, warmly and welcomingly. Even though Mirielle was no longer with him, Taun-Lok could still hear the second language, common, being spoken by the Ancestor Spirit.
"<I was not told. You knew you were not gods yet we worshiped you for centuries. Why?>" Taun-Lok was angry, sad, confused all at once. He was lost seeking the path that had never been followed by the Priest-Kings. They had taken their people down a path that lead only to doom and despair, and the Gods had not warned them.
"We do not see the Present. Only the Past and the Future. You are the Present my child, it is up to you to tell us what is happening. We can only provide guidance based from what will happen and what has already come to pass." Grom-Taq ever clear and to the point stood from his throne towering over Taun-Lok in a traditional dominance display, reminding the Priest-King who ruled the City of Gold. Taun-Lok had no idea if their physical attributes remained, and even then he had no idea how strong Grom-Taq had been in life given all he had learned today. In legend, Grom-Taq had pulled the earth towards himself to make the mountains and pushed the earth away to make the canyons across the globe, but that could not be.
"We are the Earth and Sea and Sky. The Beasts and Time are friends to us. If we are worshiped, are we not Gods?" Tehaun spoke like a mother to the Priest-King ushering Grom-Taq back to his golden throne. "We are what you need us to be."
"<What were you! When you walked with the People, what were you.>" Taun-Lok almost shouted, begging for answers from the Gods in the short amount of time he had with them.
"We were as we are now and as we always will be." Totutl smiled, his riddles had plagued generations of Crokodons, as far back as time was recorded the King of the Sky had never been straight forward with his answers, but in that moment of calm sobriety Taun-Lok understood. The binding ritual. Their intentions. What they had been.
Leaders, rulers. Shepherds of a flock having given up their after-life to remain on in the World between Worlds, glimpsing the earth as it was to offer their descendants wisdom and guidance. Their perceptions were limited, but they had the gift of prophecy immeasurably. It allowed them to warn the people of dangers in the future and allowed them to plan for events that may never actually occur. Allowed the five of them to turn the People in directions to avoid the worst fates, but prevented them from ever gaining their restful sleep in the afterlife.
"<Doom is at my doorstep and I am no closer to discovering what I need to save the People. I am alone and powerless, and the undead swarm just beyond the mountains in numbers as great as they were during the first Cataclysm. The elders speak of a new enemy, you speak of a new cataclysm and the undead thrive. I need answers.>" The Priest-King knew that he would not get the Gods to break their cycle of how they answered questions and provided guidance. They had a reason for being that way. Perhaps it was so they would not rule through a puppet but guide a successor on their own path, allowing each ruler to take the information provided differently so that they could rule as individuals.
"<I need to know the puzzle of this ritual.>" He held the golden scroll out to the Gods to see and Totutl looked it over, Hexuatl seemed rather pleased with it as well. "<Who has used it? How can I continue.>" The Gods looked to each other.
"Our time is spent my child. Look to the Sun and see the Light for what it is." Totutl smiled once more as his form dissipated away, his bones going back to their rest alongside his brothers and sisters once again.
Taun-Lok struck the floor in anger at the riddle. His ancestors had provided him with so much, yet so little like they had always intended. The Priest-King strode out from the inner sanctum, the dim light from the Sun Stone glowing just enough so that the city glittered at night, that the stars were still clearly visible and the City was never truly dark. With a sigh he glanced at the Sun Stone, a beacon of the God's divinity and light. A false beacon.
And yet, it always worked. Even during the War of the Dead, its radiance had turned the tide of many of the Horned King's battles. In fact it was he that built the lenses around it to focus its radiant intensity. In fact, it shone with light and when looked at with the Mage-Sight its radiance burned and hurt the eyes of those who looked upon it.
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Post by Taun-Lok on Feb 4, 2017 8:37:59 GMT
Taun-Lok's glowing blue eyes of the Mage-Sight regarded the Sun Stone as best as he could, only able to glance at the brilliance and radiance of the largest and most powerful stone.
Totutl's riddle seemed so obvious now. "Look to the Sun and see the Light for what it is." The Light was the divine magic the stone was blessed with, had always been blessed with. It was the answer Taun-Lok sought after all this time, it had shone above him his entire life. All the answers to the questions he was filled with, all the anger and rage at being decieved, all the things he had seen in his travels had prepared him to accept that Magic was the answer he sought. Not just any Magic, but Totutl's magic.
If he were to learn to replicate it, and teach said magic to his kin, his fellow Sunbloods, there would be an uproar across the city. The Sunbloods were one of the smallest populations of Crokodon in the city, only a handful of members more than the feathered Kronotoan who had never recovered from the Great Betrayal. If it was possible to understand magic quickly however, it would be the Sunbloods. Their minds were wiser, retained information better, and were more open to such ideas. Plus they were incredibly loyal to their King and Eldest. He was not only their ruler, but their oldest brother, their family. They could all trace their bloodline back to Totutl himself and that kinship was strong.
The Priest-King made his way to the base of the Golden Pyramid where the second, smaller stone was kept. In times of war it was carried on a large stone altar that served as a howdah for either an Arcanosaurus or Dor-rok, the Elder of Stone, rode it upon his Bond-Beast, a titanic Triceratops easily twice the height of any of its kind.
Currently however, it was kept in a small pyramid directly adjacent to the Great Pyramid. The great pyramid stretched four hundred fifty feet into the sky, with the three Great Temples standing three hundred feet each. But the smaller temples were normally at most only one hundred feet tall with most of the city being made of two or three story buildings.
The small pyramid contained the stone altar and a causeway beneath it so the beast that would be carrying the altar could walk beneath it and have the altar affixed to it without it needing to be lifted or carried by the Lizard folks. The large, man-sized gemstone glowed brightly, but as it was not active, it did not shine with the light of the Sun yet. But its aura was unmistakable.
Taun-Lok sat his helmet down on the stones, taking up a small flask of blood from a beast and the little creature's heart. He poured the blood out and consumed the heart, waiting to see if his theory was correct. Alas, while the blue spirit attempted to appear to him, it could not fully form in the time the small heart and beast provided. They simply did not have the life force necessary for the powerful spirit to borrow and fully form.
The Priest-King frowned but acquiesed to the ritual as it had always been, fetching a slave and slaying the man for his life essence. Totutl appeared once more, for the third time in a single day. The glowing blue spirit smiled at his living counterpart. "<The Horned King bound you to his helmet didn't he?>"
"The hydra is dangerous not because of its many heads, but because of its one mind and singular goal." The spirit answered, almost a retort.
"<I want to know everything you do. Teach me, show me. Anything. Show me the light for what it is.>" Taun-Lok requested, kneeling before the standing spirit in reverence. He knew there was a way to learn, a way to see the Light.
"When a blind man illuminates his path, is he still blind?" The Spirit moved closer to Taun-Lok staring into his eyes. "You cannot know everything I know." The sound and inflection of his voice had changed, the normally smiling and light-hearted spirit was now very serious. Taun-Lok's heart fell into his stomach at the words. He had hoped that since the being was not truly the Lord of All Creation that he's wealth of knowledge wouldn't be so unfathomable, but the Spirit seemed to think as much, that a mortal being couldn't hope to understand all that the Ancestor Spirit had learned in his life and death.
"Knowledge is like a river. Its course is ever changing. It flows out as quickly as it flows in, but yet it can be found still and trapped." The Spirit's normal tone returned as it straightened its back and stood to its full height before the Priest-King. "Open yourself to the river, and its remnants will be enough to sate your thirst. Try to swallow the river and it will swallow you whole."
The meaning seemed clear enough to Taun-Lok despite its cryptic nature. If he could directly commune with the God, he could retain some of the God's, the Ancestor Spirit's plethora of knowledge, but if he grasped to strongly, tried to take in too much, it would drive him mad. The Priest-King stabbed himself with the Jet Dagger, driving the weapon deeply into his stomach, blood dripping from his hide and onto the stone tiled floor as the King stood before his ancestor.
The Spirit reached out to him and grasped his head with one spectral claw and with the other the Jet Dagger, the Conduit of Souls.
Taun-Lok's mind exploded with images of things he had heard about, he had seen, he had done, and things that would come to pass. Knowledge as unfathomable to him as could be, as though he was seeing into another unknowable dimension. Light flashed in his mind's eye, bright flashes blinding him, causing him immense pain. His head pounded like it was being struck by an anvil repeated and his skull felt as though it would burst. Life and Death seemed to merge into one horrid, hellish afterlife of nothing and everything at once, and then there was silence and blackness.
Quiet. The King opened his eyes and the spirit was gone, his body ached. His muscles were tensed and cramped. His breathing was ragged and his open wound bled freely against his hand, the dagger lying on the floor, withdrawn by Totutl at the time of his remission. Taun-Lok struggled to make sense of what he had seen, but it had been more than anyone could have imagined, the past and the future had merged into one and all of history had been unraveled before him for one fleeting instant.
And then it was all gone. Like waking up from a dream and being unable to remember hardly anything about it.
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