As the rumbling archway of stone extended from he bastion riches, like a great limb, to touch the tip of the fallen city's out wall, and the ground beyond, the gathering of humanity thereon parted like the proverbial Red Sea.

The awe and respect fear was palpable, really.  For these folk has never seen anything like Chandriss, the Unmade before ... nor the evident power that she commanded with casual ease.

And yet, maintaining a noble bearing among the stunned throng, Annalise (daughter of Dragon, apparently) stepped confidently onto the tongue of stone, moving agilely and surely to Chandriss' side, without invite ... assuming to walk beside the Stone Goddess, and accompany her down the ramp into Verano stronghold.

"I am grateful that you came, your ..." and hesitated here a moment, "Please, how should I title you, to show my respect?"


In the secure compound below, more people were gathering to watch the arrival.  In fact, Chandriss guessed that what she was seeing ... maybe six score individuals at most ... were the entire population of this human outpost in this ungodly, cursed land.

As the bastion behind vanished back into the landscape from whence it was borne, all but Annalise started in wonder.
"We have shelter and food to share, though not perhaps for so many", she said, glancing back at the Aikhtiar following, "I regret that we had not realised that your entourage would be so ... beautiful".
                               Please, how many Aikhtiar are there, do you envisage?

Beautiful did not do them justice.

There were seventeen of the Aikhtiar there, the full extent of the Fatebound’s following.  Each was the product of untold generations of eugenic breeding programs, bred as pawns in the unending games of power and control among the Oasian nobility.  The results were… devastating… to say the least.  For the nobility bred for beauty and grace as strongly as they did magical aptitude.  Among the scarred remnants of this curse blighted land, the inhuman perfection of the physical form of the Aikhtiar must have made them each look more akin to gods in their own right than mortals.  The clothes they wore were worn and threadbare, but they had once been nobles all of them, and it showed in the quality of the weave and the richness of the dyes.

They had power as well, to match the aesthetics of their form.  Seven were skilled in the fire magics of the Cinnabar Order, with Kalhata the Siren of Flame in her red silks the strongest among those.   Another six had been bred and trained as warriors of the Empty Way, their seemingly perfect bodies warped and enhanced by the flesh crafting magic and mind altering drugs of their respective families.  Two had served as Seers of the Bright Eye before choosing to follow Chandriss, with Laughing Mahu showing exceptional aptitude with her mastery of the art of oreinomacy.  They even had a healer, Anen, trained in the ways of the Merciful Hand.  And then there was Sitre, poor twisted Sitre, her mind warped forever by those nightmarish years at the Academy of Thought.  Each had come to Chadriss willingly, though few enough with the blessing of their family.  Most had been bought with favor or power, a few won by chances of fate, and several more simply slipping away in the night.  They stood now, impossibly beautiful in their robes and silks, surveying the devastation before them without judgement or reproach in their gaze.

In comparison?  Chandriss was a ruin, a husk barely keeping herself attached to this reality.

”We require no formal title.  We simply are.  Should your customs require you to address us with an honorific, F-F-Fatebound will serve.  If not?  I am Chadriss.  W-w-w-we will take what supplies you have to spare.  Though i-i-t is our intent to leave you far more prosperous than we have f-f-found you, when all accounts are settled.”

She waited until the Aikhtiar were all settled, what passed for servants dismissed, and the two of them finally some sense of privacy.

”I would speak now of that which was used to d-d-draw our a-attention to this place.  The Shard of the Celestial Engine.  There are many w-whose attention you could h-have captured with such an offer.  Why d-did you choose us?  What was your intent?”
This message was last edited by the player at 05:41, Tue 13 Aug 2019.

"I am afraid that I am far from schooled in the disciplines of such mystic matters, Fatebound.
To claim that what I have is of Celestial origin would be foolish of me.  What I have, however, is one small portion of my nations Crown Jewels.
It has been murmured in the courts, before our land fell, that the royal family had such wealth, however", explained Baron Annalise.

The two sat, presently, in what constituted the Baron's audience chambers.  Servants bustled about, and several armed men loitered dutifully nearby ... but this was a small outpost of desperate survivors, in a curse and savage land.
The closest that they had to royal finery these days was the tapestries that adorned the nearby walls, and the finery upon which 'refreshments' were being served.

"I am, of course, aware of the presence of divinity upon the earth, and have heard rumours of ... the Fatebound.
We have attempted to make contact with any rumours that came our way in the last years.
Alas, you are the first to respond to our message.

The fact is, most of our messengers never return.   Whomever found you did not; for I was unaware of your coming until your arrival was seen upon the horizon.

But I digress.   I am happy for the opportunity to provide you with a showing of what we have, by way of our royal investments.  And should any of it take your interest, be it mundane or mystical, I humbly beg the opportunity to trade it in exchange for resources or service ... as my people need these things much more than antique gems and baubles".

With a gesture, she summoned a small group of three people who had been respectfully waiting nearby.   They lifted a small chest, no bigger than jewellery box, from a table that contained several such chests.
And they brought it forward; placing it on the small table between the chairs that Chandriss and the Baron sat upon.

Opening it, the Baron revealed a stunning silver ring;  teardrop-shaped, designed in a style evocative of Dulimbian fashion.  It is accented with a huge opaque turquoise emerald-cut gem.

Chandriss could immediately tell that the ring's outer silver coating had been replace many times over the years, intuitively sensing the layers within like a trained forester might know a tree's age by the rings\ed layers within its flesh.
She could also tell that the turquoise had not always been home within the clasps; sensing remnants of ruby deeper within the clasp.  But knew that the turquoise had lived there longer than any living human could possibly remember.

It was a beautiful piece of workmanship, it was true.   But it held no Celestial energy, or connections.


Please, with your next post, give me a Wisdom check ... which for you, of course, will be a d20 check needing 7+ result.
I have checked your Facts, and none pertain to this check, sorry.

Chandriss sat down heavily upon the chair provided, the material that comprised it groaning and straining as her weight settled upon it.  The Shaelat’Azlia rested heavily upon her lap, the gemstones embedded in its cover glowing dully with the emerald and ruby fire.  She reached out one hand, touching the turquoise deftly with two fingers as she learned its true name, bonding it to her own soul even as she left it be within its case.

”Such an heirloom is beautiful, without doubt, but it is not why we crossed the desert and into these broken lands.  If you will permit it, we would see each and every royal investment that comprises your inheritance, trace these hands over every stone.  It is possible that the spark of creation is hidden among one, but it is not here in this ring.”

They withdrew their hand from the ring.

”As t-t-t-t-o o-o-opport-t-tunity, i-i-i-it is my intent-t-t to provide for you and y-yours regardless of the outcome of this e-e-xchange, Aegiskeeper.  You have witnessed the b-bastion…”

Her words were difficult to hear as her form fluttered and skittered, but the warding magic held.

”... and we have no doubt that its power has inspired many thoughts within your mind.  New paths and opportunities that were not available to you opening the moment the tread of our footsteps touched upon your l-l-land.  Speak truly, what favor is it you hope to win w-w-w-with such a display of wealth?”
This message was last edited by the player at 23:14, Tue 13 Aug 2019.

As Chandriss withdrew her fingers from the jewellery, Annalise shared gestures with the three men, whom understood her unspoken directions.  Closing the small chest, they removed it back to the table, and readied another chest.

As they did so, Annalise returned her attention to Chandriss, "I am afraid that I cannot claim these items as inheritance.  At least, not in the traditional, legitimate manner.   No, these were scavenged from a trade caravan that my people located several days north of here, not far from our nearest Hellgate.    Whatever had slaughtered the caravan's residents, and trashed the place for ... food" that last word said with some deeper meaning, " ... and supplies, left these scattered among the litter.
Perhaps these had no value to such ... creatures".
         Ok, lets try another Wisdom roll:  same as last time

The three men had returned with the next chest.   Chandriss could see that her presence disturbed them somewhat.
Maybe it disturbed Annalise also, as it did many of this world.
When they opened the next chest, Chandriss was witness to a bracelet consists of four strands of dusty red beads.  Each teardrop-shaped bead is inscribed with a glyph: none of which Chandriss recognises immediately.

But, there was no spark of divinity within this item either.

She was aware that Annalise was speaking again, "These items are, as you can guess, priceless.
Yet, even their value is tarnished by reality ... for they cannot defend my people.  They cannot feed them.  And they cannot be used as weapons against the darkness, or tools.
Our walls crumble, yet we cannot afford the hours or the sweat to repair them well enough; nor mine the materials from the nearby quarry", she replied to Chandriss' question.
And after a moments thought, she added, "And these ... baubles ... cannot help us close that Hellgate".

There was a small note of desperation in the woman's voice; though Chandriss' own noble training admired the woman for her conviction and the strong, patient face she maintained ... hiding that anxiety.

She looked at Chandriss earnestly now;  waiting for what Chandriss would say in reply.   But Chandriss got the impression that Annalise was watching for something much deeper than the words that Chandriss would speak.

Chandriss took a long steadying breath, calming herself and regaining her focus.  She had been forgetting to do so more and more these days, sometimes going untold minutes before it occurred to her that she had ceased breathing.  She had been too busy to explore it much, the lines of Fate drawing her ever onward.

"These are not what we seek, yet they perhaps might be the foundation of that which we desire."

Their mind calm, their existence held steady.

"It is time then to speak of foundations, and of destiny of Verano."

She reached into the leather bag that hung from a thick strap at her side, pulling forth a heavy scroll case.  She placed this upon the table, unfurling it and spreading it out for Annalise to see.


"This... is the Clan Bastion."

She intoned, and there was an almost religious quality to the deep rumble of her voice.

"And it is to be the foundation of New Verano."

She gestured with her hand, and from the ground sprung up with a rumble a miniature version of the blueprints upon the scroll.  It was a flat square of stone, slightly tapered, with a square hole in the middle that allowed light to shine down from above. Comparing the model to the blueprints, it was clear that the opening was likely ten feet wide and long on the full construction.

"Each Clan Bastion is by itself a fortress far more formidable than your own palisades."

Indeed, the full design would be a stone wall twenty feet high, with a curved lip at each edge making even the most skilled attempt to climb it next to impossible.

"B-b-beneath the outer layer is the floor of heaven, where the families and clans of New Verano will take shelter."

With a wave of her hand the roof of the model collapsed to dust, revealing the topmost rooms of the structure.  There were eight rooms in total, four in 10 by 10 and four of 10 by 20 on each of the corners.  None had windows, instead all were attached to a central balcony within the structure that allowed open space for the light from above to fall to the ground floor.

"The floor of stone is a common space, accessible only by a single doorway."

They waved their hand again, and the second level turned to dust as well.  The bottom floor was one large common area, accessible only by a single archway and broken up by six large support pillars.  Any standing in the middle of the 40 by 40 foot space would have open sky above them.

"By connecting each Clan Bastion together, their individual strength becomes a force to rival any castle or keep."

The whole structure collapsed, but immediately nine much smaller versions rose from the rubble.  They formed a grind, three by three, with one in the middle.  A small wall connected all the outer models together, forming a keep around a central structure.

"We will accept your offering, despite the absence of the Divine Spark which we desire.  It is o-o-o-our intention t-t-to construct a series of such Clan Bastions, connected by an outer wall, immediately o-o-outside of Verano.   Doing so will grant your people the safety and security that they require to begin to r-r-r-rebuild what has been l-lost.  Within the center of this reborn c-city will be a Temple of Lore.  None will be required to w-worpship our ascended divinity within this temple, but all who chose f-f-f-freely to do so will suffer no retaliation for their choice at your or anyone else's h-hands.  You will be their protector, as you would any other of your charges.  We will take your best scout with us, and inspect the site of the caravan attack.  The Aikhtiar will remain within the Temple of Lore while we are gone.  T-t-their needs are to b-be provided for.  Any who wish to s-study lore with them will do so, s-s-should they be found to have an aptitude for magic."

Their red eyes turned to regard Annalise, the sigil at her temple burning.

"You are Aegiskeeper of these lands, and so the decision rests with you.  Do we have an accord?"

Of the Hellgate, she said nothing.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:19, Thu 15 Aug 2019.

As Chandriss spoke her offer, she could sense the social nature of the room changing.

The last of the chests was also brought before her, displaying within, an earring sewn from bright turquoise leather.  It is designed in a classical style, and engraved with a horse.
But what really caught Chandriss' attention was the residual magic upon the earring.   No longer embued with magic, it used to be.  Long ago.   With some study, she might identify how ... and what.

But Annalise was speaking again: "That is truly a ... magnificent ... offer, Fatebound" somewhat breathlessly.
"I ...", she stammered, lost in consideration, "I would consult with my counsel on the matter.  Please?"


            Ok, lets try for one last Perception (Wisdom) test: third times the charm, right?!?

She reached out to touch each of the stones, but it was the earring to which she paid the most attention.

"Of course.  While you do so, w-we would take this last piece, and consult with the Aikhtiar."

If there was no objection, Chandriss would go and show the earring to Laughing Mahu.  There was no guarantee, but fate could see to it that the Seer of the Bright Eye have insight into the echo of greatness that Chandriss herself would not.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:07, Tue 20 Aug 2019.

As Chandriss left the room with the Jewellery chest, headed for their quarters in a nearby building, she noticed a group of three individuals standing to one side of the room ... in a corner to themselves.

What drew her attention, was the lack of theirs.   Everyone else in the room was staring at her; watching the Fatebound, the weird, strange, golemesque form, in awe.
But these three, did  not.   Two simply looked away, as though contemplating something deeply, or interested in yonder tapestry.
One stared at Annalise, and seemed annoyed.
But either the trio were unimpressed with Chandriss' presence; or were quite adamantly choosing to not acknowledge her.



I want to give you a chance to intercede in the storyline here, if you wish.
Or simply post Chandriss carrying on to her quarters.
Either way, when you post her arriving, please tell us what she is doing meanwhile ... as Annalise holds court, and Laughing Mahu investigates the charms.

Chandriss paused, sensing the eddies of change that were alight in the wind.

The Shaelat 'Azlia was already in her hands, it was always in her hands.  She had not put it down once since her consciousness and her body had reformed around it, save to sleep.  Even then, she had rested upon it, and the need for sleep was something that she had felt growing more and more distant as the wheel of time had passed.  More and more, the concerns of mortal flesh had felt like something she had done out of habit rather than need.  Even breathing...

No, that was a concern for another time.

Now the eddies of fate twirled before her, invisible and unseen to all but her.

It was dangerous, to do what she did now.  Her form was still a fragile thing, and in doing this she was expending the majority of her power.  Yet it would not leave her a defenseless calf, blind and helpless.  Some risks were worth the reward.  She opened the tome of fate, and in the air before her burst a living flame of emerald and ruby fire.  A sigil, unreadable and unknowable to all but the Fatebound burst to life before her as the heavy tome's pages flew open.   Those close to her heard it rumble and roar as it flickered and burned, a quite sound, yet deep and powerful despite that.

Chandriss had opened the Shaelat 'Azlia, grasping those eddies, and weaving the web of understanding before her eyes.

When Chandriss stopped by the door, and opened that mighty tome, the room held its breath in silence ... all those nearby feeling, as much as hearing, the distant, yet deeply present susurrus of power.
Even the angry man’s eyes slid into sideways glance towards her.

Even as he did, Chandriss read his fate.   And she had to ask herself, what was an (5HD/level) Anti-priest* doing here in Ancilia ... at the same time that she had been invited?
Coincidence?

The weaving threads of prophecy before her eyes told her that he’d risen swiftly through his ranks in the previous year, and had ambitions on acquiring both title and power within his church by expanding their reach ... along with personal desires to increase his own power.
And he would, too, if no ‘power’ interceded in his current fatepath.

He would also sire a child; whom Chandriss sensed significant Fate swirling around.  A fate entwined, she could feel, with her own.

Chandriss caught the man's leveled gaze, and for the first time in a long while felt human as her pulse began to race.  She kept it from her features, though perhaps her concentration slipped for a moment and her physical vessel slipped from this line of fate into the next.  The matrices of stones held though, the magic deep and strong, and she was left facing him.

She nodded once, a silent acknowledgement, and then turned and left to rejoin her people.  When she found them, she ensured that all outsiders had left the room, and then spoke in hushed tones.

"We are not s-s-safe here."

Sadeh, the most skilled of the practitioners of the Empty Way, immediately stepped forward to hear her words.  She was wrapped in black silk, only her face visible.  Like all of the flesh sculpted guardians of the noble families of the Oasis States, Sadeh's face was beautiful to behold.  What the silk obscured were the razor sharp scythe-like blades of bone that extended from her wrists, stronger than steel.  Uncovered, her arms looked more like that of a preying mantis than a human, and she was utterly deadly in their employ.

"The Aegiskeeper has also invited one of the Pyreburned, an Antipriest of Lom, to attend her.  We c-cannot trust in fate that this was a coincidence.  Sadeh, when next I leave this room, I would have you in attendance.  Two of your students are to be on guard over the Aikhtiar at all times, along with one of Kalhata's p-p-people.  W-w-we cannot assume that I am their only target, y-you all are in just a-as much danger."

Then she sought out Laughing Mahu, handing her the chest with the horse earring.

"Laughing Mahu.  If you would, we would have you ply your craft upon this earring.  None of what was shown to us possessed that which we sought, but there is a spark of divinity left within this piece.  I would know all of it that your art can reveal. Set your apprentice to attempting to divine the purpose of this Pyreburned man, perhaps she can tell us something."

Mahu nodded, the scar on her face that twisted her smile into the macabre thing that had earned her the title making her teeth gleam white in the light of the torches.

Sadeh, silent as ever, briefly bowed in acknowledgement.
She took a place by the door; an unwelcome surprise to any who might come barging through it unannounced.
Meanwhile, her apprentices and adepts moved quietly to secure the windows and such, all understanding the gravity of their Mistress’ news.
The remaining Aikhtiar milled, concerned.

Laughing Mahu, poor twisted Mahu, took the chest from Chandriss with anticipation: akin to a child given an unexpected gift by her mother.  She scampered away to a private corner, settling down (now inattentive to anything but her precious) and gleefully opening the chest.
Without further direction, her young apprentice sat herself, and attempted to transition her mind and being as Mahu had daughter her, that she might begin sending the threads of consequence and fate.

Of course, success by either woman would depend (among other things) on how long Chandriss could, or would, give them to perform their magics.

In the immediate, however, they were not disturbed.

"I-I-I w-would give y-you what time you need, y-you h-h-have a d-day."

Chandriss announced to Laughing Mahu, standing at the doorway.

"Sadeh, I can part the veil of the bastion, or be the Stonemother, I cannot do both.  That is assuming t-that the Pyreburned does not have tricks of his own.  I will need to rely on you for protection.  Come, let us see what the Aegiskeeper and her advisors have decided."

She turned to the other silent Empty Hand.

"Should you f-face any trouble, you know what to do."

And they did.  If something went wrong, the Aikhtiar would beat a song of war upon the mighty drum of ancestors.  Antipriest or no, Chandriss would hear it, and she would level mountains if that's what it took to get to her disciples.

And so it was that Chandriss left her disciples, and turned her attention and path back towards the Baron Annalise.
Sadeh, silent and deadly, fell in behind her like a silk-wrapper shadow.

Those of the Empty Way whom had not taken position by the doors and windows now sat together, an inward facing circle; each in her own semblance of a lotus position, each changing her own individual mantra that would empower her in her own way.
The image and mild cacophony creating a surreal scene.


As Chandriss and Sadeh approaches the chambers whence Chandriss had left Annalise, she observed two armed men guarding the closed door.
These hadn’t been there before, nor the door closed.  And the two politely moved to stand before the doors, blocking Chandriss’ entrance.

Inside, though, she could hear raised voices; not yelling, as such, but a heated discussion was indeed taking place.
Baron Annalise’s voice was one, as was another male ... though they were framed in a susurrus or background of conversation.

Chandriss was the Stonemother, and nothing so mundane as a guarded door would bar her progress.  She let go of the Shaelat 'Azlia, letting it fall open as she did.  The bright burning glyph appeared, ever shifting and ever changing.  The book did not fall though, instead hovering before her as if held aloft by invisible hands.  She took one step to the side, and with a wave of her hands simultaneously caused all hell to break loose.  A thick barrier of stone rose to block the door, preventing any and all from accessing it.  At the same time, a wall sprung forth dividing the room, trapping the guards to one side and the Fatebound and her escort on the other.  Both were covered from floor to ceiling in prayers and exhalations proclaiming her divinity.

Finally, the wall before her melted away, giving her open access to the room with the Baron and her guest.  Two large stone jackals, roaring silently and unmoving, flanked her on each side as the dust of her exertions settled.

"Aegiskeeper.  You had not informed us that you were entertaining such an esteemed guest as an Antipriest of Lom."

She said without stutter as she strode into the room, Sadeh silent at her heels.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:10, Sun 25 Aug 2019.

Well, there’s no arguing with that entrance, eh!


As the building seemed to meld and flow at Chandriss’ whim, the two guards were summarily denied any chance to argue their point ... and those within the audience chamber turned to stare in awe.

Dust swirled about the place, but nowhere as deeply as the within the silent jackels that now accompanied Chandriss into the room.


Baron Annalise, flushed with prior rage, now stood in shock.   As did the Anti-priest standing mere feet in front of her, and looking just as angry.
Beyond and around them all, Annalise’s most trusted advisors looked on in ... fear?

It was Annalise who managed to gather her wits before all others, and she turned to face Chandriss.
She took a deep breath of dust filled air (which caused her to have to stifle a cough), as she considered her response swiftly.
Fear in her eyes spoke of a need to grovel, and beg forgiveness: and yet she still managed to hold her bearing and authority, “Fatebound”, she stated, “I regr... I maintain the right to share my information as I see fit.

And you are correct, of course.   Please allow me to introduce you to His Honour, the Templar Stoic.
We have had the ... pleasure ... of his company for many months now”.
The implications and tone of her voice grated on him, and he grimaced in container rage.  But while he glanced at her for her petulance, his eyes barely left Chandriss ... and she could see within his face the readiness to fight.

“He was just leaving, I’m afraid.   Duties to his church have draw him away,” she said, with a rather dismissive wave of her hand, “to his chambers”.

Templar Stoic, turned to her with rebuke, but was cut off by the woman’s harsh tone, “I wish to speak with the Fatebound.
Alone” to her counsel.

As they all began to filter out (of the gaping wound Chandriss had left in the structure), Templar Stoic ground his teeth together, and headed for the same exit.

Nobody but Chandriss was looking at Annalise at that moment ... so none others saw the tear run down her dust covered cheek.
Though, it was hard for Chandriss to divine whether it was fear, stress of ‘something in her eye’ that caused the effect.

Too many lines of fate all at once, and she couldn’t risk draining herself completely to read any of them with one of the Pyreburned standing right in front of her.  She didn’t even know if her Gifts would affect the man.  She had, up until that point, had no contact with the Antipriests except for stories and lore.  Their name made them sound like they were a nullifying factor, perhaps somehow in direct opposition to her own spark of divinity.  The illusion of such could very well have been the intent behind it, but it could also be the reality.  She wanted to know, but not here, not now.

”Very well, Aegiskeeper.”

It was will that held her together, no flickering of fates or realities, as she answered the Baroness.  She waved her right hand, and with a liquid grinding the stone which barred the door melted away, allowing the guards to come bursting in if they wished.  At the same time, the wall behind her reformed, and the two jackals of stone turned to her and seemed to bow and stretch as if they were mortal beasts luxuriating at the feet of their master.  They continued twisting as they sank into the floor, in an instant reduced from massive statues of stone to intricate patterns of script and illustration carved into the floor in the vague geometric pattern of the animals they had once been.

She waited in long silence for the others to leave, ignoring the Antipriest utterly now that he had been dismissed.  Not so for Sadeh, whose dark eyes followed him every step he took until he had left the room.  She had made her point, and there was no need to grind it in any further, especially with the Aegiskeeper’s whole court there in attendance.  To attempt to bully or humiliate her would serve little purpose, despite the fact that Chandriss had the power within her to bring every last stone of Verano down if she needed to in order to protect her people.  No, she understood Annalisse’s strength well.  The Fatebound would not back her into a corner.  She had demonstrated power enough, now was the time to show that such power was not without restraint.

”Baron Annalise, we thank you for your intervention in this matter.  This world possesses forces that are diametrically opposed, forces who cannot exist in the same space without eternal conflict and strife.  There is a place for all such things, indeed there must be, but all too often the clashing of such forces leads to the suffering of the innocent.  It is your wisdom and foresight here that led to the path which we now walk, and for that, you are to be commended most highly.”

A nod, a gesture of respect before the Baron.

”Thus far, w-we have not found that which we sought within your walls, yet as I have told you before it is our intent to leave you richer than we found you regardless of our successes or failures here.  New Verano is yours, should you wish it.  The people of Ancalia have endured nightmare and horrors unknown to the rest of the world, and in doing so perhaps come closer to understanding the celestial conflict better than any other mortal mind.  Your people deserve this future, no matter the outcome of what passes between us.  I will grant them that fate.  Yet there is the potential for so much more.  New Verano’s Clan Bastions will keep your people safe, but it will do nothing to stop the horrors that stalk outside your walls.  To accomplish such a feat, to close the Night Roads themselves, we will need the assembled wisdom and knowledge of a great many Temples of Lore.  Not just in New Verano, but in a dozen cities, a hundred.  You have a chance here to be the first of something truly… m-m-miraculous, should you seize it.  But to do that, y-you have to make a choice.”

Her eyes had never left the Baron as she spoke.

”Destruction and creation cannot coexist where mortal’s feet tread, such elements are the makeup of the primordial forces, and not for you.  It must be one or the other.  Which fate do you choose for New Verano?  Which fate do you choose for your people?  My divinity, or the father?”
This message was lightly edited by the player at 00:23, Wed 28 Aug 2019.

Baron Annalise sighed.

She broke eye contact and wandered a few steps away, thinking deeply, as the room returned to its normal semblance about them in their solitude.
After a moment, she turned back.
"Your offer is, of course, magnificent.  But ...", she hesitated a moment, "like he says, it can be taken away just as quickly.
While I ... have distaste ... for his nation, and his church, they have provided essentials for us already.  Essentials that he cannot just take away again, if my decisions displease him.  What has been offered and given by his church is now ours.  And we can use it to fight even that church back, if we must.

But what you offer ..."  was incredible.  There was nothing that anyone could offer her people like the gift Chandiss had proposed.
But at what cost?   Annalise had no idea what this person/thing before her would demand once the Church of Reason had been driven away ... and her people were at Chandriss' mercy.

She stared deep into Chandriss' eyes glowing crystals ... but found only hard stone and light; something she couldn't read like she could read the eyes of a human.

And she found the courage to ask the hard question: "How can I know that we can trust you?"


I am going to ask for a Charisma Check with this ... regardless of Chandriss' answer.
A successful Check will not seal this deal, but it will certainly help.

Chandriss had not closed the book of fate, nor had she grasped it in her hands.  It simply hovered in the air before her, a constant reminder that the thing which stood before the Baron now was not human.

”What is an oath to a divine being?  N-nothing is p-p-permanent, and all c-c-can be taken away.  Accepting or r-rejecting all t-that which we have o-o-offered does not change that.  Your w-w-walls are no less susceptible to our w-w-will than those of the Clan Bastions.  Had o-our intention been to conquer, we w-w-would have walked the path of destruction.  Such is not our way, nor is such the intent of our gifts.  Earth and stone can c-c-crush and grind, but their essential nature is to be a foundation upon which to b-build and grow.  Fire consumes, no matter what other gifts it brings.  The gift of New Verano will be yours, e-even should you choose t-to continue to o-obligate yourself and y-your people to the Pyreburned and h-h-his antipriests.  W-w-we will accept the b-b-baubles you have offered, plant the seeds of the Clan Bastions, and depart with our people.  No Temple of Lore will be birthed here, and none of the Aikhtiar will remain.  We will not return, and you will forever pass from our divine gaze.”

She let the words sink in.

”Or you can choose to banish the Pyreburned and his support, and place your faith in our divinity.  There are no assurances to you that we can provide in this, no bindings of fate or word that can contain my power.  Yet in taking the chance, you guarantee the establishment of a Temple of Lore within the walls of your new city.  You guarantee that this will be the first of many such Temples, all devoted to studying and mastering the higher magic, t-the theurgy that will be needed to master the Night Roads and close them once and for all.  Most importantly, you will guarantee that New Verano will never leave our thoughts, and that our divine attention will always come back to this place.”

The rune over the Shaelat’Azlia burned brightly as the Aegiskeeper decided the fate of her people, and in doing so the future of all of Ancalia.

”The choice is yours, Aegiskeeper.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:53, Thu 29 Aug 2019.

The Baron Annalise stood listening to the Fatebound's words.

When Chandriss talked about walls being no less susceptible to her will, and talked about paths of destruction, she could see Annalise's heart sink.  For it was true, Annalise with her entire community could not stand against Chandriss.
The Fatebound's words now were very clear, in the Baron's ears, how impotent they were in her presence ... and how futile any resistance would be.
At least against the Lomites, Verada might stand and fight with some chance of success.
But what could they do against a being of such power that it could, literally, open the earth and swallow their entire enclave, with but a thought.

And yet, the Fatebound promised otherwise ... and more.   But it came with threat of abandonment should Verada not comply with the Fatebound's ultimatum regarding the Lomites.

The Templar had provided much some since his arrival over a year ago, it was true.  But, she had to admit to herself, such came with its own ultimatums and threats, promises and demands.

But it was her following thoughts, as Chandriss spoke of Temples of Lore, of establishment of power, of a centre of learning, that caught in Annalise's mind.   That if she didn't accept Chandriss' offer, maybe, just maybe, another Ancilian might.
For she suspected that there would be a Temple of Lore and learning to be within Ancilia: if not in Verada, then where ... and who would benefit from that political power.

Annalise, whether through desire for personal power, or to serve her people, knew what she must do.
"He says that you are far from divine.  That you are not a god.   Something powerful, to be sure ... but not a god.
I guess that, for we mere mortals, there is little difference between a god, and a golem of such great magical power", she said.

She sighed, as she looked upon Chandriss, as though contemplating deep and many things.   But 'her choice', as close as she felt she had in the matter, was obvious ... and made.

She nodded, "I accept your gracious offer.
The Templar will be required to take his retinue, and leave tomorrow at dawn".
Whether this was a mistake, or no, her decision was made ... and Annalise could only wait now, to see how her fate (and that of her community) would play out.

"He is half right, in his own way.  We are not a God, yet he is a fool to deny divinity is within us.  I am, and we are, the seeds of godhood.  In making this choice, Aegiskeeper, you have ensured that New Verano is the foundation of ascension."

The Shaelat 'Azlia closed with a booming thud, and Chandriss caught it in her outstretched hands.

"W-we will begin immediately."

She strode out of the room, her gait determined despite the skittering missteps her wavering form sometimes forced out of her.  She did not look behind her, trusting that those who needed to follow would do so, that they would see.   First, she went to her people, the Aikhtiar.

"It begins.  Gather up our sleeping brethren..."

Laughing Mahu and her apprentice were asleep on the floor, practicing their craft as they had been instructed.

"... we must remain vigilant.  The Pyreburned has lost this round, and vengeance is the nature of fire.  Surely, he will a-attempt some parting retribution."

The others gathered four long poles of wood, slipping them into the loops of cloth upon either side of the Seer's simple sleeping matts, and carrying them between them.  She exited the fort at the head of her growing procession, moving quickly towards the southern palisade as she began to draw her power up from the bones of the earth and into the matrices of power which contained her.  As she drew near the wooden wall, the bastion began to rumble at her feet, the first stones rising from the earth.  With a mighty roar of stone on stone, the bastion rose and soared into the sky, lifting her twenty feet into the air on a massive tower of black obsidian.  Prayers to her divinity were inscribed upon every stone, beautifully carved in the language of the Oasis states as well as the common tongue.   Dutifully, the Aikhtiar began to funnel into the black tower, Sadeh and the other Empty Hand maintaining their silent vigil.

High above the wall, she surveilled the clay upon which she would reshape Verano's destiny.

Twenty feet away from the palisade, the first of the Clan Bastions began to grow.  The stone which rose from the earth was gray granite, rather than the black obelisk upon which she now stood.  She shaped the building one quarter at a time, bringing each corner up to meet its neighbors in a massive demonstration of her own divine power.   In only moments, the four corners were joined, dust and dirt falling off of the pristine new stone.  Unlike the tower on which she now stood, the Clan Bastion was unmarred by any scribing or prayer.  By itself, it was the foundation of the Fatebound's legend, and she had only begun.

Barely two hours later, she had almost completed her great work. Eighteen of the Clan Bastions had been constructed, in a perfect grid five wide and four deep, with twenty feet of space between each.  In the middle of this grid was an open space where two more Clan Bastions could easily have stood, but Chandriss had for some reason chosen to leave them empty.  The outermost Clan Bastions were all joined by a wall, twenty feet high and five feet thick.  There were no battlements upon these walls, no platforms upon which soldiers could stand, for the Clan Bastions were each meant to serve as their own secure fortress.  A wall with raised platforms would act as a bridge between Clan Bastions, reducing their independence as separate structures.  Even without platforms, a normal wall might have served as such a connection.  This wall was no such thing, the top narrowing to a razor sharp point more akin to a sword blade than a structure of granite.   The stones of these walls were placed without mortar or cement, yet interlocked in such a way that one could only begin disassembling them if a great many men and women were standing atop the Clan Bastions and coordinating with those below.

There was only one gate on the whole great work, placed in the middle of the wall between the closest row of four Clan Bastions.  It stood empty, a gaping hole in New Verano's defenses that matched the open doorway of each Clan Bastion.  With a rumbling groan, a stairway formed at the base of the obsidian tower, allowing the Aegiskeeper to walk up to join the founder of New Verano.  If she climbed, Chandriss turned back to the gates of her creation, and two walls of simple brown stone with ten feet between them rose to connect the palisade of Old Verano with the gate of the new.

"Behold, your new foundation.  Behold New Verano.  You will n-n-need to secure the gate, building the door which will seal it shut.  The bastion does not allow for the construction of such, nor are w-we able to provide the materials.  We will stand vigil this day, and defend any and all from the U-u-unmade as your people go about their labor.  If they are unable to secure their new domain before the sun sets, we will seal the gateway with stone so that tonight they are safe.  We r-r-r-recommend that you position the f-f-f-families of y-your more m-martial clans within the Clan Bastions t-t-that support the wall.  We will leave the blueprints for the Clan Bastions with your sages, and from the earth we will pull enough stone to construct many more.  Your people will not need to venture to the quarry for many generations.  Provided they keep to the s-s-stonelore I set down when I am done, your people will never want for safety again.  This future, this fate?  You have secured it for them."

With a final gesture, she collapsed the palisade in the gap between the two walls, creating a route of safe passage between the two towns.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:28, Thu 29 Aug 2019.

For many hours, Chandriss had stood there, upon the obsidian bastion from which she focused every ounce of her attention and power.
For this task was immense, in extend and detail, and the Power needed to create in such magnificent abundance, to craft and sculpt, to orchestrate and choreography, left Chandriss with little ability to notice what was going on around her.

Thankfully, she knew the Aikhtiar were with her.  And in this, she needn't concern herself with the petty reality about her.

For it was that the entire population of Verano was drawn inexplicably to this scene ... like the stone drawn unquestionably from the land below.   They gathered on walls, and rooftops, as the witnessed what could only be counted as a miracle.
Hundreds and hundreds of eyes took in the spectacle of Power.


On one such rooftop, Templar Stoic watched and fumed, witnessing not a miracle, but magical power that only his superiors might have matched in their own arts.   Oh, he understood the power of this false idle, and he wanted an accurate account to return to his Senator's with.


Baron Annalise stood among the throng, of course, gazing out in equal measure upon the miracle being performed, and at her people.  She still was't sure what this was going to cost them ... or her.   But her decision was now made, and its consequences would reveal themselves soon enough.


Hours of such power channelled might have killed an mortal sorcerer, in fact.
But born of stone, Chandriss, the Unmade stood unmoving.   Like a statue upon her high pedestal, her form unmoving as her mind summoned and shaped the new city before her.  If she was of flesh, surely sweat would run rivulets from her aching body ... but stone does not bleed, nor break, or bend.


And when it was done, the Baron Annalise joined the Fatebound upon the obsidian tower.
She was, by definition, in awe, as she looked down upon the new structure before them.  It was, in every way, a new home for her people, and a bastion of safety and a foundation upon which they could rebuild their lives and retake their land.
"Thank you" was all she could utter.


As online gaming doesn't really define itself well in context of 'game session', I am going to adjudicate that this brings Chandriss to the end of her first session:  Chapter 1 of 'By Divinity Sweet Nectar'.
As such, I am awarding Chandriss 2 Dominion, as per the rules on p103.   I think that the character has been well introduced, and has indeed dome something particularly in line with their divine concept.


By Divinity Sweet Nectar: Chapter 2
Annalise had descended the Obsidian Tower, hours ago, to begin organising her people's move into 'New Verano'.
So much work had to be performed ... the logistics was immense.   Food, homes, possessions, families transferred, not to mention the scavenging and refurbishing all all things necessary for securing their new home.

Chandriss and the Aikhtiar watched from such height, as the community moved like (not-so-well organised) ants.


Night fell and, as Chandriss had suspected, New Verano's entrance had not been gated.
And it was a simply task for the Stone Fatebound to seal New Verano for the night.

The people of New Verano were ... unsure ... what to make of their new benefactor.  Fear and awe, gratitude and suspicion, sat in equal measure among them; although each person holding different measures of such.   Yet, none spoke with the Fatebound, nor the Aikhtiar.
These were seen as far beyond the mortal realms of New Verano's citizens.  They had no words that could express these feeling that overawed them.
Neither face nor eye were turned in the Fatebounds directions ... eyes were turned to the ground as people passed.


Except the Baron Annalise.   Who made sure that Chandriss and the Aikhtiar had first choice (the 'lion's share' so to speak) of Bastions for the night, along with any furnishings, food, supplies they needed.
It seemed that, for whatever reasons, Annalise was giving herself to Chandriss.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:22, Wed 04 Sept 2019.

The Obsidian Bastion began to sink to the ground, first gently depositing the Aikhtiar who stood within it.  Without looking behind her, Chandriss began walking to the front gate, pausing only long enough to ensure that all were inside before sealing it and collapsing the two walls that connected the New to the Old.

Then she set off for the middle of New Verano, to the space where she had left room for two Clan Bastions, but had built nothing.  She turned to the left of the open space, and with a silent working of her will rose another Clan Bastion from nothing.  This was identical to the others in shape, and yet different in so many ways.  Where the others had been gray granite, this was marble of the purest white.  Where the others had been devoid of carvings or motifs, this was covered from ground to crest in the prayers and exaltations of her people.  Thousands of lines of script, proclaiming in every tongue she knew that this was a place of knowledge, a place of learning, a place truly touched by the divine.

It was the first Temple of Lore, it would not be the last.

Then she turned to the right.  Another exertion of divine power, and a monument of purest black obsidian rose again from the earth.  Not a tower, no, a statue.  Standing upon a pyramid of black stone, the depiction of Chandriss the Fatebound rose high over the heads of the now furiously chanting and celebrating Aikhtiar.  Her features were perfect, capturing every crack and fault line in her flesh.  Even the jewelry which pierced her nose and ears was represented in stone, cut so finely that the chains swung in the breeze. She stood tall, resolute, her expression stern but without cruelty. In her stone hands she grasped the Shaelat 'Azlia, pages open wide to reveal to New Verano its destiny.  In the center of the book of living flame was a gem, a ruby taken from one of the Baron's lesser trinkets.  The monument faced the Temple of Lore, and the open door to the Temple faced the Monument of the Unmade.

With a final shouted exaltation to the heavens, the Aikhtiar began to joyously dance their way into the Temple of Lore, Chandriss bringing up the rear of the procession.  They walked into the Temple, and save for the occasional patrol of Sadeh's silent disciples upon the roof of the marble Bastion, none were seen again until morning.

The morning light revealed another thing too.  Written upon the base of the Monument of the Unmade, carved deep into the pyramid, was the stonelore that would guild New Verano from now until the last stone was ground to dust.


This message was last edited by the player at 06:33, Wed 04 Sept 2019.

For mechanical book keeping, and in the interests of helping everyone (especially me) better understand the rules system ...

Chandriss, the Unmade is doing the following:
A).  Have used my Earth Gift to bestow a level 2 Feature on New Verano that says, New Verano's walls are strong, its people are safe.  Rules for that are the sidebar on page 138.  I can't imagine what the trouble that creates will be, can't possibly be something to do with that angry Templar getting banished tomorrow.  :)

B).  Spend 2 Dominion to make a permanent Improbably Change to the citizenry of New Verano through the Sorcery Word, stating The People of New Verano are gifted with magic, with an improbable number of them demonstrating talent for it.  It's not "everyone's an arch mage," just "oh hey, weird that like three people in this village all have the  talent to learn magic.  That seems like a lot for such a small place."

C).  And finally, commit 2 Influence to say The Loremasters of New Verano are excellent teachers, quickly conveying complex magical concepts to their apprentices.  That third one will be based off of the Temple of Lore I've built.


To Be Added:   The GM's stat's for New Verano  ... coming soon