Melehan frowns as Jezebelle leaves. Did she not understand the value of peace? At any rate, at least she didn't seem angry, which was what he thought she'd be if he intervened.
He remained true to his word by sending sparks of his divinity to Meddwl and Cof, who were quite surprised at this gift. They stayed apart from the conflicts among the succubi.
Then he returned to his palace in the Amaranthine to brood. Was Jezebelle right? Was this peace or complacency? That was what frustrated him most about her: her ability to shake his beliefs and make him wonder if he was right. As a mortal he was so certain, so steadfast. Why was it different now?
Melehan waves his hand, and suddenly they're not in the Pit anymore. Now they stand over the North, staring down at the people there.
Under the rule of Cynomelin and protected by his Caliburnai, Aremor now stands as a prosperous realm despite the harsh, wintry land. The people cleverly find ways to break and till the frozen soil, hunt in the Deepwoods and across the taiga, and fish on the icy lakes and chilly sea. At night they feast and laugh and tell stories of their ancestors. And the first log of each hearth is lit with a prayer to the god who stands in the smoke, and takes the souls of their burned dead to their final rest. Though fierce animals and unquiet dead sometimes cause trouble, the North is peaceful.
"Look at them. They keep to themselves. The Jezites and Indars and People want nothing from them, and they want nothing from the South. They live good, honest and dignified lives, and when they die, they do not face it with fear, but understanding that death is only the end of one tale, and the beginning of another. They have swords, but do not turn them on each other. I would say they do plenty of good living in "hiding." For they are content and to them, this is already a world worth living in."
"I do understand what you mean. Fear is only part of the equation. I am...attracted to you. I know that I can't give you orders or control you. That's part of what makes you intriguing. The fear I feel is the same I feel for all the other gods. We exist in a delicate balance, and I confess that I hide in the North to avoid upsetting that balance."
"Slighting you is what I fear. If it is not evident, among the gods of this universe, there is no one I'm afraid of as I am of you. It was an unintended slight that started the conflict between us, which was something I never wanted. You have also amassed power at quite a rapid rate, which I am struggling to keep up with."
His head hangs.
"For all my grand titles and pronouncements of judgment, I am afraid. Afraid of how fragile the state of this world truly is, having lived through the destruction of the old one. That's perhaps why the Amaranthine seems so dull to you. I created it to be stable."
"This I understand. I have no intention of harming the succubi personally. But you must understand that these events just aren't up to me. The sudden competition for mortal souls has made my psychopomp servants angry. Even if I were to deputize Meddwl and Cof the same way I did Artioa, it would not remove this anger. They already think the twins corrupted. They do not know you the way Meddwl and Cof do. In a way, you have "corrupted" my servants, but not quite in ways they expect. They are no longer just broken upon my will. They retain more of their old selves, and have their own desires and opinions, something you showed them was possible. But above all, psychopomps are still beings of duty and responsibility, and almost all of them feel that their very place in the universe is threatened by your daughters. Your proposal has great merit. The time of a soul's judgment means little to me, so long as it occurs. The Sidhe I created may live forever, should they live lives untouched by violence, accident, or simply desiring to let go, but all Sidhe souls stand before their maker eventually. I would have no problem of the souls of those contained within your daughters being released to judgment should their hostess perish. And to be honest, Meddwl and Cof ARE the perfect deputies in that regard. They were faithful to me in life, but always curious, always seeking. That's what led them to you, and that's why they understand you better than any other psychopomp. And why I thought to send them to you as a gesture of goodwill, both at their request and to deal with the increasing complaints the other psychopomps had been making about them."
He chuckles, and sighs a bit.
"We have both known mortality, you and I, though you are far older than I ever could have been, there at the beginning of the Old. I suppose part of my black and white ways is the folly of youth. You've lived long enough to see the gray, and now here? As a god? I know there's far more gray than I could have possibly imagined. Before the Fall I was merely a servant, struggling to enforce Lord Death's edicts and demands and protect the living. Like it or not, those rules were there for a reason. We are born, we flower, we fade, we die. I have never wished to infringe on the freedoms of another, only to help keep the world stable. Understand where I come from, Jezebelle. We are two sides of the same coin, and we and ours must find ways to understand one another or our children will surely come to blows. I have a way I view the world, and in my experience, it was the best way to live. I am sorry that our views are not compatible on a fundamental level..."
"Jezebelle, you are the single-most beautiful being in this entire universe. Anyone could be tempted by you, as evidenced by the fondness Azdan seemed to hold for you. And part of me has to wonder if Artioa's protests had some element of projection to them. Take from that what you will."
He nods as she speaks.
"To the point then: your daughters have the ability to consume the soul of a living being entirely, extinguishing its spark forever. As my very first acts in the creation of our new home were fashioning new souls for these new mortals, and judging them after they left their worldly bodies, the power the succubi possess is definite cause for alarm. However, it is less this power that I am alarmed by, but rather the lack of responsibility you've placed upon them in using it. Much like the vampire queens that rule your worshipers, they may choose to abstain and feed only to survive, targeting the most reprehensible mortals you can name, or to glut themselves constantly, not caring if their victims are kings, beggars, mothers or children."
"Understand that I have no designs on your freedoms or license to do as you wish. I hold no more authority in your pantheon than you do in mine. But also understand that this has grown beyond my will. My people are frightened of the succubi. There are even those among YOUR people that fear the night now, terrified that if one of your daughters arrives, they may not even be able to take a place at your side after death. And the psychopomps who serve me grow restless and angry as the souls they are supposed to calm and escort are devoured and extinguished."
He stands and descends to meet her at the floor, showing himself not as a high and mighty lord, but an equal.
"I have at least one idea as to how we may be able to reconcile this, but it is probably not the best, and it would be inherently restrictive, as things in my realm are wont to be. I am a god of order, and my solutions tend to involve rules and strictures, something that would no doubt be intolerable to you, but would break the promise you made to your children, and I have no intention of forcing you to break that promise. Walk with me."
He leads her out of the Last Tribunal, and across the Amaranthine's smooth, purple plains. He stops at a great gaping chasm cut into the rock, that seems to go down forever. Every so often some soul manages to climb out, while many more are cast in by psychopomps overhead.
"The Pit of Perdition. The final destination of those I've judged to be the worst in our world. It is a prison, but I meant it to be a prison that can be escaped from. What it takes is a thorough examination of one's life, realizing their mistakes and their wrongdoings, and truly, deeply, feeling regret for them. This allows the damned soul to climb and escape the Pit, at which point they can remain on the Plain in peace or pursue the higher mysteries and attempt to scale the Peak of Paradise. But...sadly, that hasn't quite turned out as I planned."
He leads her down into the Pit, which becomes a lot clearer as their eyes become acclimatized to the darkness. The Pit seems a lot larger inside than out. The walls have miles and miles of tunnels and ledges where the damned could be seen, though they seemed unaware of the gods' presence. Jezebelle saw many scenes of torment and wickedness, but there was one thing that surprised her. There were no psychopomps here. The souls of the evil dead were torturing and dominating each other.
"There are two kinds of damned here. The weak who are too cowed to seek redemption, and the strong, who enjoy the strife they cause so much that they don't WANT to leave. Some of the worst tyrants have started forming small fiefdoms of their own down here, and this is a place of punishment. The rewards one should seek down here is the ability to leave, to redeem themselves. My proposal is this: You have already granted the dead permission to visit the Onrica to speak with the living, what if I extended the same hospitality to the succubi? Allowed them here into the Pit, where they would need not fear the consequences of extinguishing the souls down here? I know many in the Pit are the same kinds of monsters you said were your favored targets for punishment of your own. The Pit is never empty, as evil people die by the thousands every second of every day, Jezite, Indar, Norther, and even Sidhe alike. Your daughters would find them easy prey. Even the most rapacious of the succubi would find themselves sated, perhaps even to the point where it would hurt. But only on one condition: that the only souls they drain on the Amaranthine are here in the Pit. That the minute one crosses the threshold and escapes to the Plain, they are free and not to be pursued, and that those on the Plain and Peak already are not to be harmed. The succubi themselves would be free to come and go as they pleased, do not mistake my offer as a plot to imprison them down here."
Melehan sits before Jezebelle, his throne an elegant work of art that looks more like it was grown from the living rock rather than shaped by human or godly hand. He looks different than the last time they spoke, harder and rougher, like a grim Norther king. Artioa stands at his side, regarding Jezebelle disdainfully. Was it anger? Jealousy? She certainly seemed less pleased than her master was at Jezebelle's presence.
"Artioa, leave us."
"With all due respect, my Lord, I believe I should be present for this. In the interests of my duties."
"Your duty at the moment is to stand judgment in my absence. This requires my undivided attention."
"With all due respect, I feel you'll need an objective second opinio-"
"You are afraid Jezebelle will attempt to decieve me. No. That is not her way. She may be proud of her figments and fancies, but outright lies? She knows that the truth is far more passionate and rewarding than any lie."
"And will she be "passionately rewarding" you for going-"
"Enough, Artioa. Tend to the judgments."
"Yes, Final Arbiter."
Artioa leaves the room. Melehan shifts in his throne and regards Jezebelle with a stern, yet sad look.
"Welcome once again, Jezebelle. Let me first congratulate you on your new children. Motherhood becomes you, makes you appear more radiant. Unfortunately, that fact is why I have called you here. The birth of the succubi has caused a significant disturbance here in the Amaranthine."
Meddwl and Cof did not need to inform Melehan of this event. They were not his spies, and he had explicitly informed them that should they choose to serve Jezebelle that they owed him no such courtesy. The psychopomps in Melehan's service did not need to inform him, though they certainly voiced their surprise and anger at what had happened. There was very little in the mortal realm and godly that escaped Melehan's notice, and the emergence of the succubi was something that had profoundly affected the order of things.
And where the order of things was concerned, Melehan was concerned.
He did not angrily barge into Jezebelle's presence this time, not like when she had brought the vampires into being. He was an older and wiser god now, at least in his own mind. Instead, he sent Artioa, his Black and White Warden, his second-in-command, to the Onrica with a simple message: We need to talk.
Week 12. +5 AP. 20 AP remaining. (33/7 Repose, 6/7 The North, 3/7 Cycle of Life. 5/7 Vigilance)
Melehan observes how the North has changed during his time as its sole god. The men of the tribes were intermingling with the more urban Sidhe, learning from one another. Melehan felt he'd been idle long enough.
He focuses his energies, having built a massive backlog of power from building his realm. When he focuses again, his power over death and the dead has increased. The dead will stay dead, if he has anything to say about it.
Soon the North would come into contact with Jezebelle's and Aeon's dominions, and their very way of life would be challenged. He decides that he must stand as an example to them to stand firm against soft or degenerate behavior. He becomes as stolid as the very metal he wielded.
He gathers more power into himself, adding to this stern, implacable visage a reasonable kindliness that helps the people of the North to look up to him. Azdan has gone so far into the dark that Melehan can no longer see him. Oenar has wandered into the winter winds, and Melehan can no longer hear her howls. He was all that was left for the people of the North. He WAS the North.
With this new understanding, Melehan focuses his influence among the faithful, both among the Sidhe and men. He urges them to unify their disparate peoples, to become stronger as one than they could be together. But then he sees one that is different. He is bastard born, blood of Sidhe and man. The perfect scion to bring the two together. He begins to whisper to this man in dreams, learning his name: Cynomelin. Cynomelin, the Hound of Melehan, urged by his god, became a mighty warrior and skilled diplomat, earning the respect of his peers and forging a small kingdom in the North: Aremor. Aremor became a beacon to the rest of the North, and it soon grew and expanded to become a dominant force in the region.
Finally, Melehan inspired Cynomelin to create an elite guard of warriors that would stand as the greatest heroes of Aremor, first into battle and last to retreat, paragons of virtue and honor, always watchful for evil in the North to strike down. They dedicated their faith to Melehan, acting as judges and arbiters where they were needed. And when the dead rose, they struck them back down. These men and Sidhe soon would become legends equal to their king. They were the greatest. They were the most vigilant. They were the Caliburnai, the Swords of Power.
Actions:
-3 AP: Gain Domain (Repose)
-5 AP (Vigilance?): Gain Ability (Immovable Object)
-5 AP (The North): Gain Ability (Mortal Shepherd)
-2 AP (War): Raise Hero (Cynomelin, the Hound of Melehan and first High King of the North)
0 AP: Form Society (The Kingdom of Aremor)
-2 (Vigilance): Form Order (The Caliburnai, the North's first order of paladins)
After a bit of thought, I've categorized Melehan's expenditures as the following:
AP Gains and Expenditures:
15 starting points
Create Legendary Concept (Souls) -5 AP (Repose)
Create Legendary Concept (Afterlife) -5 AP (Repose)
Weave Plane (The Amaranthine, the land of the dead) -5 AP (Repose)
gain 4 ap
gain 4 ap
gain 4 ap
Ability Gained: Crystal Seer (-5 AP) (Vigilance)
Join Pantheon (-1 AP) (The North)
gain 5 ap
Weave Sanctum (-3 AP): The Last Tribunal (Repose)
gain 5 ap
Weave Plane The Peak of Paradise and the Pit of Perdition. (-5 AP) (Repose)
Create Demigod (Artioa, the Black and White Warden) (-5 AP) (Repose)
gain 5 ap
Create Greater Life (The Sidhe): -3 AP (The North)
Form Society (Sidhe): -1 AP (The North)
Bless (Uplift the Sidhe to civilization): -1 AP (The North)
gain 5 ap
Boon (Melehan reincarnates fallen Oreads as new Narzions): -3 AP. (Cycle of Life)
gain 5 ap
Create Legendary Life (Psychopomps): -5 AP (Repose)
Current AP: 15
Would these be okay categories? With Azdan and Oenar sort of fading out of the picture due to stuff, Melehan stands to become the sole deity in the North (Steven T. Helt, if you don't want me to do this, please let me know).
"He suspected you'd say these things. Fear not. Onrica is your house, it will follow your rules. As to our service, we will let him know, but I suspect he will release us to follow you anyway. We were interested in this place the minute you made it. We will return when we have relayed your message and secured our release. I am Meddwl. And I am Cof."
The Norther words for thought and memory...appropriate names for dream dwellers...
"He has a proposal for you. For now, he must decline your offer to abandon the gods of the North and join you and Aeon, as one of their number has faded, and he now must shoulder more of her duties. He has, however, noticed your creation of this realm, and is intrigued. He asks your permission for his people, the Sidhe, and the men of the North, to enter Onrica. Moreover, he is interested in a "merge" or "link" between your two realms, so the dead and the living may meet again in dreams. Furthermore, he asks if you would be interested in sharing some of your grace and beauty with the Sidhe. For now, the people of the North stuggle and survive, but their lives are bleak and artless. He feels your touch may be the spark they need to enrich their lives. As a token of his goodwill, he presents to you a gift: us. We are hardworking custodians of the dead, and would be willing to facilitate the meetings of dead and living in this realm, and will serve you well."
The pair alternate between each other as they speak, finishing each other's sentences. Clearly the crow-headed, winged beings had been twins in life.
I'm unsure if a declaration like "Any mortal who dedicates their life to serving a particular god gets to bypass Melehan's judgment system and goes straight to the court of their god" would be a decree or something. I'm still technically a fledgling as the majority of my actions up to this point have been related to domains I already have, since I needed to get the whole afterlife thingy set up, and so I haven't had any real opportunities to expand my portfolio.
Melehan watched the creation of the dream world with interest. The people of the North and the Sidhe dreamed of iron and survival and faith. As time had passed, Melehan had watched as Oenar had become more distant. Maybe it was because mortals were becoming more populous in the North, perhaps it was just her desire to be alone, even as part of the pantheon.
For his part, Melehan felt he had remained indecisive long enough. It was time to act.
The first thing he did was call a great gathering within the Last Tribunal of the souls of his faithful. He regarded them with his serious, regal visage and spoke:
"The time has come to show the world that while death may be forestalled, it cannot be denied. I have created a judge to watch over these hallowed halls in my absence..."
Artoia nods.
"But she is only one servant. I will need many to ensure the natural order of this world. Your tasks in life were only the beginning. Now, you will become my emissaries among the mortals. Not just in the North you called home, but among all peoples of all lands. When the dying cry out for mercy and salvation, you will be there to guide them, whether here to the Amaranthine, or to the sides of their own divine patrons. So let it be."
Melehan waved his hand, and the souls of his followers began to change. Some sprouted black feathers and grew raven's heads. Others took on the gruff and stern features of black bears and wolves. The greatest among them, those who had been first among Melehan's faithful, took the shapes of great black dragons. When it was over, a virtual army of strange beast-men stood before Melehan, black in color, clad in silver.
"Go my scions, my psychopomps. The time has come for the dead to be granted succor."
So the psychopomps scattered into the world, appearing to the dead and dying to ferry them to their place in the afterlife, whether that was to the Amaranthine to be judged by Melehan or Artoia, or to the realms of the gods they worshiped in life, to serve them.
Create Legendary Life (Psychopomps, a race of bestial humanoid outsiders that serve Melehan as messengers and servants, escorting the souls of the dead.) -5 AP
There was a lot of work still to be done, Melehan thought as he sorted through the judgments of the recently dead, sending the souls of the Oreads back to Lagdorn, and deciding where the souls of man and Sidhe and other races should go.
Ya know, thinking about it, if Melehan just keeps the Sidhe named that and names their society that as well, I think that pretty much clears any problems I could have.
He plans to take them in a different direction than typical elves, but he's named their society Elven. If he and the rest of you wouldn't mind him re-naming(a cosmetic change only) it to Sidhe society, I would be free to make a more classic elven one.
I suppose that could work. I was originally going to just say that their proper name is Sidhe, and elf was a cultural corruption as their capital city was El (borrowed that from Pathfinder, I confess). How exactly would they differ, though? To be clear, I was going more for a Tolkienian-style elf, at least as far as biology went: Immortality apart from dying in battle or from illness, etc, being able to sire half-breeds with humans but said half-breeds are forced to choose between their human and elf side, that kind of thing. Their cultural trappings, however, would be different than Tolkien's creations, developing a culture similar to Egypt with their reverence for the dead and penchant for monument building. And part of the reason their immortality wouldn't make them take over the world is that their immortality doesn't make them inherently better warriors.
The idea was that their inherent immortality made them more respectful to death, and they would sort of act as an example to other mortals that death isn't something to be afraid of, yada yada yada.
I apologize if this is over the line. I wasn't aware that we'd be getting an elf god.
"My brother's angered me in the past. I suppose it's time to return the favor."
Melehan returns to the Amaranthine and gathers the souls of the lost Oreads and presents his offer to them. Some accept, others don't. Those that don't Melehan says to the Plain, or the Pit, as the law demanded. Those who accepted, Melehan escorted them personally back to Mirrodin, where they began to be born into new Narzion bodies, their memories of the past falling away, beginning anew.
Actions:
Boon (Melehan reincarnates some of the fallen Oreads as new Narzions): -3 AP.
Azdan, Aeon doesn't need to create the sun. Yidhra beat him to it. Don't worry, Yidhra, Melehan will acknowledge the existence of the sun. He's gonna propose a solution to the undead conflict.
"I wish to speak of you of the lights of the Oreads that you have snuffed out so soon. I am not here to debate your decisions. And indeed, I find much to admire in your Narzion. But the souls of the Oreads will arrive in my realm soon. As it stands, many of them are bound for the Pit. While that is just according to my own laws do not feel that is necessarily fair. I offer a gift to you. When the Oreads come before me, I will offer them a second chance. If they accept, they will be reborn among the Narzion, and have an opportunity to shed the taint they brought upon themselves. If they refuse, then they shall be judged as the law requires. In this way, the Oreads will gain a chance at redemption, and perhaps salve some of the pain you surely feel at being forced to snuff them out almost as soon as they began."
Melehan, after wandering among his Sidhe for a while, is startled by the sudden disappearance of the Oreads and Warforged. He'd been aware of Lagdorn's movements, but had avoided getting involved, avoided provoking the newcomer as he had with Jezebelle, but this act was dramatic. He travelled to Mirrodin and sought the First Inventor out.
"Hail, First Inventor. I would speak with you of the passing of your peoples and the births of the new..."
Only in function more or less Nes, not in power(at least not yet). He's the only published main deity of elves, as even in Golarion, while there is an elven pantheon, there's no true primary elf god/goddess. Many venerate Calistria, but she's also a deity of vengeance, lust and trickery(See why I say her and Jez are similar?)
I could easily see, if the others agree, such broad concepts for domains such as magic and the elements being shared by a couple of deities, but defined by portfolios.
For example, Lir would have Magic(Arcane, Nature), while Jez could also have Magic(Divine, Ritual).
Lir could also take Water, and not define it via portfolio, while Yir also has Water, but has defines her's as Open Water(Ocean, Seas).
Of course, if I'm out of line trying to make changes to a game I'm not even a part of yet, please let me know. I'm just trying to help come with ways to replicate existing pantheon stuff.
I...um...might have jumped the gun on you, Monkeygod. Melehan just created a race of elves, the Sidhe. I wasn't paying attention to the recruitment and thus didn't see your idea. I'm sorry. Is there some way we can work it out?
Melehan immediately thinks of an idea for a new race. A people who will value death, for they will have a long life, and not fear the end. A people who will stand as an example to the others.
"I thank you for your invitation, Lord of Civilization. I think you will find my children...intriguing."
He departs and returns to the North, and finds a piece of fertile land by the sea. There he draws silver up from the ground, and wood from the trees, water from the sea and uses them to sculpt his people. Similar to the men that now populate the world, but taller, slimmer, and more angular. He then starts a fire and breathes the smoke into the people, filling them with life. Longer life than those of men, but...perhaps they should share this life with the people. They would be able to interbreed with Men, to make something greater.
He called these people the Sidhe.
For a time, Melehan walked among the Sidhe, and taught them how to be civilized like the other people of the North. He taught them justice, which pleased him. He taught them art, to please the eyes of Jezebel. He taught them mercy, to please the eyes of Aeon. He taught them respect for the land, to please Oenar. He taught them civilization, to please Nes. He taught them respect for death, to please Azdan. Under his guidance, the Sidhe built their first city, there on the shore where Melehan made them. A great and beautiful city, that they called El. The people of the North met with the Sidhe here, and soon gave them a new name, after their city. They called them Elves.
Actions:
Create Greater Life (The Sidhe): -3 AP
Form Society (Elven): -1 AP
Bless (Uplift the Sidhe to civilization): -1 AP
Any suggestions as to what Domain I should put these actions towards?
I'd say the first three actions would contribute to death, while the latter three contribute to Melehan's focus on law and arbitration, and his latest action...I don't know, contributes to both?
Melehan begins preparations to leave the Amaranthine and the Last Tribunal in operation while he's away. He searches among the dead, striding up the Peak and seeking among the souls of the virtuous that resided there. There, he noticed a large congregation of them gathering. There among them stood the soul of a woman, orating to the departed.
"May I pass?"
The souls did so, allowing Melehan to approach the speaker.
"I remember you. You were a wise-woman of the North, one of the most virtuous to be placed here. You could have ascended to the summit of the Peak easily. Why do you remain here?"
"I remember you too. He-Who-Stands-In-The-Smoke, who takes the spirit from their pyre to this place. You were a guide to my people, and that inspired me to guide those among the living. And I will do that here as well. I need no enlightenment or reward. Doing what you have taught me to do, that is reward enough."
"...Good answer."
In an instant, they shift from the Peak to Melehan's throne in the Final Tribunal. For a moment, the woman's spirit is stunned and confused, but once she gets her bearings, she straightens up and nods.
"You are among the most admirable mortal souls to pass through my halls. And rather than seek reward from me for it, you have continued in service to others and in providing counsel and judgment even in this life beyond life. You will stand as my servant here, judging the dead in my absence. There is no need to tell me your name, for now you will have a new name: Artioa, the Black and White Warden."
Silvery light swirls around her, surrounding and suffusing her and when it dissipates, she has changed. She now stands at twice the height of any mortal, her clothes somber robes of black and white artfully intermingling. Her hair is a glittering gray, her expression stern yet kind.
Artioa nods and turns to her duty, while Melehan takes his leave and begins travelling to Nes' domain to answer his invitation.
Actions:
Create Demigod (Artioa, the Black and White Warden) -5 points
"I...I will have to consider your words carefully, Jezebelle. This is not something small you're asking, after all. The people of the North are my charge, they need me. And I do not wish to seem fickle to my own kin by abandoning a pantheon as soon as it was born. I'll have an answer for you in time, I assure you."
He returns to the Amaranthine and finally begins working his will upon the featureless plane of purple stone outside. The souls of the dead found that outside the Last Tribunal there was a massive mountain, and a vast pit. Melehan observed the souls of the dead, to see their hearts. Those whose wickedness had led them to harm others or interfere with the natural order were cast into the pit, where the torments they inflicted upon others were inflicted back upon them. Those whose virtue pleased him were given a place on the mountain, where they wanted for nothing and were granted what their hearts desired. Any whose soul was neither wicked nor pure was released out into the lands between, free to do as they wished, but with very little to do as of yet.
"I have placed your souls where they deserve to be, but souls can change. If you desire more than what you have been granted, you may attempt to climb free. You will be tested, both in your endurance and your will. If you can muster both, then you may change your fate. A wicked soul may rise from the pit, an indifferent soul may ascend the mountain and achieve paradise. Should you desire more than paradise, you may climb to the top of the mountain. I know not what you will find there, but you will never be able to return. Any who swear loyalty to me, however, may dwell in my house as my faithful, and I will reward you as a king rewards his champions. So let it be."
As he judges the dead, a warrior comes forward bearing the message of the Fey King. Melehan is intrigued, but he realizes his wandering has left the Amaranthine neglected, and decides that first he must place a judge to hold court in his absence.
Actions:
Melehan creates The Peak of Paradise and the Pit of Perdition. -5 AP, I think? Correct me if I'm wrong.
"Animals don't have souls the same way men do, Jezebelle. You raise a valuable point though, that they will die when the time comes. I was unaware of that caveat. I apologize for my assumptions. Undeath is a sore subject with me. My sphere of influence in the old world dealt exclusively with their destruction and the protection of the living. Perhaps we may come to an accord regarding these women? The ones who curtail their hunger, who survive in moderation, these are admirable people who bear a heavy burden. But the ones who feast on their lessers, who savage and kill, I feel something should be done about them. What would you propose?"
Jezebelle smiled back at Melehan.
"I propose we give animals a soul.
But you were probably talking about my vampires."
Jezebelle lied in one of her piles of pillows on the floor, crossing her long smooth legs.
"You should know by now, I do place a great value on free will. I have seen the fate of monsters time and time again. I trust that the cruelest of them all will meet their end by the hands of the same men they prey upon. They are strong, but not as strong as an entire mob of angry men.
Jezebelle looked seductively at Melehan. With her index finger, she invited the final arbiter to come closer to her.
"Nonetheless, if you feel the need to destroy the most unruly ones among them, I will allow you to destroy them, or to set things so that they meet their end before their time. I won't seek revenge for them. As I said, I am nothing but a conscientious and reasonable goddess.
I don't want to be your enemy, I would rather have you as a dear friend of mine."
Jezebelle giggled a little as, unnoticed by Melehan,the black haired shard of the goddess of passion appeared on his back. Embraced him and whispered on his ear.
"You have my blessing on this matter. But remember the fate of monsters. you will destroy a vampire because they kill men. Will you be that different as you kill them?"
Melehan blushes and gulps, but tries to maintain his composure.
"Perhaps I and my followers won't be so different. But that is something we will have to live with and accept in our own way."
"exist outside the order of things Azdan declared?" asked Jezebelle visibly upset. "I couldn't put myself outside of that, not even if I wanted. Those vampires will die and rot eventually, like anyone else. The only thing they won't suffer is the ravage of time. You ask me about the pain and fear that comes with death... but who made it painful and scary?
I do believe I accept the order Azdan declared better than you. Maybe it's you who can't accept it, and feel the need to blame me for it.
Besides... when has been decreed that men are above the creatures of this world? that they can eat and kill every other creature but they cannot be killed and eaten in return?
And what about the order of things that I declare? would you dare to tell me it has not the same value as yours or your brother's?"
Jezebelle took a deep breath and calmed down a little.
"But I am nothing but a conscientious and reasonable goddess. Point out one good reason why they shouldn't be and I will unmake them with my own hands. Just be warned... don't you try to belittle my divine authority. There is only so much insult I am willing to tolerate"
"Animals don't have souls the same way men do, Jezebelle. You raise a valuable point though, that they will die when the time comes. I was unaware of that caveat. I apologize for my assumptions. Undeath is a sore subject with me. My sphere of influence in the old world dealt exclusively with their destruction and the protection of the living. Perhaps we may come to an accord regarding these women? The ones who curtail their hunger, who survive in moderation, these are admirable people who bear a heavy burden. But the ones who feast on their lessers, who savage and kill, I feel something should be done about them. What would you propose?"
Melehan manages a weak smile. Jezebelle was actually starting to frighten him.
great ... I noticed this only now. Sorry for the delay.
Jezebelle offer her hand to Melehan and guides him to a big silver mirror.
The goddess of beauty kisses her image and the reflection stat to blur and shift into something else. a young Jezite in his twenties appeared in the mirror, he was carving the image of another man in the wood. On the side there was thin layers of gold, to make the statue precious once is finished.
"This is Meztli. The man he is carving on wood is Tlacelel, his father.
When Meztli had an incident, Tlacelel offered himself as a blood sacrifice, to fuel a ritual that could save his son."
The image disappeared from the mirror, another one appeared, the cave atop the mountain. One of the 7 vampires was pale beyond the others, and weak. she lied in a bed barely conscious. On her lap there is a boy, unconscious, motionless, but apparently serene.
"She's Zaniyah, the pale. Many men sacrificed themselves to participate in her promised glory, to create the 7 queens. Some others were forced to it. One did it for love. The one who sits in his lap.
She knew about his love when it was too late. She managed to save him... but not to wake him up, not yet. Every drop of blood that is given to her, she consumes to keep him alive and maybe one day to awaken him. She doesn't even know if she loves him. She just know she cannot stop thinking about the love he gave to her."
The mirror shifts away once more This time on another vampire, she sits on her throne, while a group of Jezites sings for her. All the Jezites have teethmarks on their neck.
"This is Tlalli the meek. She learned she can consume blood without consuming a life. It's a constant struggle to her, to keep feeding on them and keep them alive at the same time. But she came to realize that she values their lives more than she value her satisfaction."
The mirror shifted again and returned to...
"Force? Force has little to do with it. If anything has been forced, you have forced these people to exist outside the order of things Azdan declared. And for what? Attention? Help me to understand why I should not be upset by these events. To understand how I should judge the souls that these 7 have sent to my realm, howling in pain and fear."
Melehan returns to the Amaranthine, and knows that there is much work to be done. He focuses his thoughts, and slowly, steadily, the ground begins to rise beneath him, lifting him up. The purple stone of the Amaranthine darkens to an inky, almost black, hue, while veins of glittering metal marble through it, like silver. The growing mountain shifts and twists as it becomes less like a mountain and more like a building. Crystalline growths, reminiscent of Oenar's icy creations, begin to emerge, glowing with an inner light as Melehan's palace is completed.
He roams its grounds, the place slowly taking on furnishings and decoration pleasing to his eyes until finally he reaches the greatest chamber in the building. There, the stone of the sanctum has taken the shape of a massive throne, elegant and foreboding, intricate yet solid.
Melehan takes his seat, and the souls of the dead begin to file in, guided by some instinct they didn't know they'd had until now. And Melehan judged them.
Weave Sanctum (-3 AP): The Last Tribunal, Melehan's judgment seat and place of residence. Here he will judge the souls of the dead, house his future servants and entertain his fellow divinities.
Melehan steeples his hands, his expression troubled as he nods.
"You bring words with meaning. That is indeed what I fear. That with the fear of death will inevitably come those small-minded mortals who refuse to see anything beyond their own life. That they will see death not as the transition it is, but rather as robbery, that their lives are taken from them by some cruel oppressor. You don't deserve scorn of that nature, brother. You are not evil. You are not good either, but that is where I come in. I am still weak from creating the Amaranthine, and have yet to sort the souls that have already arrived there. But there are others who have taken advantage of Yidhra's work."
He takes control of Azdan's view of the cosmos and shifts it further south, to the domain of the Jezites, and most specifically, the mountaintop cave sacred to both them and the Indar.
"Jezebelle now has granted some of her followers eternal life and beauty sustained through the consumption of human blood. The souls of those sacrificed to them, given to them as food in religious devotion, arrive screaming in my realm, their deaths horrific as they were savaged by a monster. I wish to comfort them, but have no desire to condone their deaths on Jezebelle's whims, claiming it is retribution for me ignoring her during our last council. I know not what to do."
