The Dark Oracle, AAR- Ongoing.

[spirokeat]

This is the start of my AAR.

Aran Map. I will post scales and opponents as I progress. But be welcome to the birth of my god....Hope you all enjoy.

Spiro.


The Dark Oracle

The God
How long I have been I cannot say, there was a time, once, perhaps an aeon ago that my purpose was to see things, the past, the future or man’s desire. What little I know of my history is faded and thin but I shall relate it none the less for if I am to accomplish what I seek, the halls of eternity will echo with my tale.

I was nothing but formless void an essence that knew only one thing, the undeniable existence of myself. As the dreams of the world began to flow like soothing water from the minds of the primitive creatures I became aware of new things, lands, trees, people and I was drawn from my strange place into the world. My first memory of this new dream was of clarity, of water and so I flowed from the dream into the world as a stream. I sensed the order of this plane and my form saw many things, I saw a power risen in the heavens, divine, all knowing and all seeing and the world was a pleasing place in its benign embrace and I saw my people, those who had dreamed of me.

Stunted and hunched they lived in small tribes a simple existence as they strove to drag themselves up from the primitive bog of evolution, but I was fascinated it was pleasing to be near them and so I drew them to my cave and cleansed their ills in my waters and offered knowledge that slipped into their minds like the dreams they had slipped into mine. And so the tribes began to become more than just villages and I dreamed of a nation, that would come, in time, but inevitable. As the tribes of Mictlan grew, for that was their chosen name. As their skills of artifice grew I was gifted with form as an honour for providing the land with prophecy and a clever man, for that is also what they were, carved for me a pleasing shape, a beautiful fountain to gather my waters in artful pools and allow me to playfully dance from statues of the young girls who had become accustomed to attend me.

As the tribes grew so did tradition and each person who was granted respite in my waters from mortal death once passed on from natural means their blood as an offering of water was given back to me and their remains dried, dressed and prepared for what lay after for I could see beyond the veil of death and so the tribes learnt of it also. As the empire grew so did the kings thirst for knowledge and as their demands for knowledge grew they began to unwillingly take blood to gift to me to power the omens which I used to prophecies the fate of the nation, but one cannot hold the fate of ones own spirit and so I was blind to what must come.

Their desires became as frenzied as the knives that brought me blood and none were more gifted in the slaying of innocence than Mictlipocti, Oh what honour he did me, I know not at which point my waters changed, I can only surmise that his unholy gluttony for death affected me till I spewed forth the spurting blood of innocents, few could approach me now for I howled in mimicry the agonised screams of those fed to me in an unending scream, my sight saw nothing more than pristine souls and where to find them, my form slippery with gore and no longer pleasing to the eye, I blinded my attendant lest her sweet innocence fail in my abysmal presence, she would know my crimson depths in time but virgin blood was more potent.

My own gluttony and preoccupation afforded me little foresight now and as time passed so did my allies, Mictipocti was gone and his successor had a different vision, allied with the divine powers of the world my cult was routed out and fed to me in punishment I barely noticed till the Last was bled and my ancient place high in the mountains was sealed closed, forever to contain my diabolic misery. A time of Law had come.

I know not how long I lay dormant, insane, dreaming terrible dreams locked within my prison. I felt disaster strike the land, nations I was sure rose and fell, and then it came to pass, the one true power was gone, his force of law lifted, no longer would the sinful of the world have to fear and surely there were none more wicked now than I ?

I called out to my people in cajoling dreams of sweet temptation, the empire surely needed a power to support it, it would not survive without aid, my will MUST be done. How long I whispered till I was heard I know not, but the dank air in my cavern began to stir and the congealed and rotten depths of my being sensed the approach of sweet innocence, INNOCENCE !!, bubbles sprung forth in slavering hunger from my pools.

I watched in hungry silence as the intruders approached my inner chamber, I could here their names as their own souls and minds involuntarily spoke to me, Tanacatecuhtli, a priest, a dabbler in blood, it was he who had scoured the histories looking for mention of me and my secret place as I tormented his nightly sleep with promises of power. Xolotl was the tribal lord he had persuaded to support him, a long journey they had undertaken to unleash my desire on the world, and yes, they had come prepared, A wooden cage held three captives, virgin blood, searched out by the priest under my direction.

Tanacatecuhtli drew close and opened a dried and ancient tome, motioning to Xolotl to bring one of the young girls forth. Xolotl looked nervous, I could smell his fear, it excited me and I could not help but issue a thin eerie wail as I waited for the inevitable. Gingerly he pushed the bewildered and naked creature towards Tanacatecuhtli who grasped her wrist with his bony hand. Eye’s darting over the tome he began to utter malign words, not spoken for centuries, ceremonial callings to me to accept a new mouth. He had done well, deeply buried in ancient tombs were those magic’s, I had chosen him well. I let my essence awaken, seeping upward from the sluggish deeps I opened my arms to become one with a new Bloodspeaker.

Tanacatecuhtli, The Mictlan Priest
Tanacatecuhtli finished the incantation, the Last months flashing through his mind like the Last moments of his life, he knew that if he made even a single mistake it would be just that, the spell had stretched the limit of his skill, he was not truly enough of a blood adept to be comfortable in casting this but the voice had promised its assistance and more should he succeed. The Last months had passed like a blur, a half waking, half sleeping dream, his body and mind spent to the point that he didn’t truly know if this was all some dread illusion and he would wake in a moment with a Moon priest and at his door with a writ of heresy for him. But the voice had driven him on, fearing his nightmares more than the priesthood elders. He had sneaked around the temples, gathering information and studying old lore with a fever that was almost born of disease, he lost weight, his eyes gaunt and cheeks sunken with the knowledge he was taking in.

What he discovered threatened to steal his sanity, an ancient oracle that had shepherded his primal forefathers prior to the great empire of Mictlan being born, tainted and corrupted by the ancient Kings who birthed the dark priesthoods who’s practice was outlawed but who had returned in the decades since the cataclysm and the loss of the one. Quetzalcoatl the ancient king renowned for his destruction of the blood cults had sought out all those who practiced the arts of blood and fed them to their own oracle and at the Last sealed this ancient horror in the depths of its lair and eradicated as much of its lore from history as was possible to prevent its remergeance.

The voice had whispered that he would not find his answers in the rediscovered tomes that the new blood cults had taken, the Lawgiver had scourged the oracles rituals from that lore, he must look at the ancient halls of records and burials. Initially he had despaired as the old hall of records had succumbed to an earthquake in the cataclysm and only a fraction of the records now remained the rest sealed in dark caverns where the halls had fallen and since been built over. He had needed money and influence neither of which he possessed. Then his chance came, a Tribal leader who was renowned for his battle prowess and cruel vigour with which he brought slaves to the block had fallen foul of church machinations, his lands seized and titles lost. Tanacatecuhtli approached him and with sly words tempted him with promises of power and revenge if only he would assemble a band of his staunchest warriors and accompany him into the cavernous depths below the city.

Xolotl agreed, he was angry and his blood ran hot and so they had ventured into the old undercity to face what lay beneath. The journey had been surprisingly easy, longdead and ghouls easily despatched by Xolotl’s men and the banishment rites he had learned during his tenure in the priesthood. Recovering the records he needed he had discovered in the inventories of a minor priest interred some centuries before an ark, containing a book. This had to be it, returning to the city under cover of night Tanacatecuhtli had slipped into the catacombs following the directions of the manifest he had aquired. The tomb was a plain affair, single stone sarcophagus which he enlisted Xolotl’s brawn to draw from its resting place. Pausing only to check for potential interference they had opened the lid.

Tanacatecuhtli had been puzzled by the appearance of the inhabitant, it did not look like a minor priest, its burial mask far more elaborate than would have been appropriate, but that was a riddle for another day, laying at the foot of the mummy was a small gold ark, its crystal lid still clear and laying inside a black tome. Quickly placing the ark in a sack their thievery done, they sealed the lid and pushed the coffin back into its place.

Returning to my chambers I had begun to study the ancient book, it spoke of rites and rituals needed to bind bloodslaves to a dark oracle and ceremonies and auspices that were required to ensure its power was maintained, I was aghast, the enormous supply of blood needed by this devouring beast was monstrous even by the bloody rites of the current priesthood, how it had maintained such a supply in the much smaller hamlets that it must have attended prior to the great empire that it slept through. After all any sanguine douser knew that a large population was needed to get a good supply of virgin vitae, the country bumpkins were far too keen on deflowering their misbegotten daughters as soon as possible in an effort to gain land or status. Large cities and bloated populous left the fading flowers of beauty intact, with a thousand other sinful distractions rather than the carnal. Ah ! but here was the key, the spirit hunted them out itself, telling its adherents where to seek for the viscous fluid it needed.

I knew now what I must do and planned to contact Xolotl at first light to make the relevant arrangements in the meantime I would sleep and see if this voice would send me the omens of where to find what it needed for its reawakening, three daughters, one of thirteen years of age born under a baleful star and the others twins, to be sacrificed once the binding was performed, I wasn’t sure I had the might to perform this, it was beyond my training, but I had no choice now, my nightmares beckoned me and I was lost unless I could succeed.

That night I slept fitfully, my dreams taunting me with their silken clarity, so close and tantalizingly vivid yet out just out of reach. I awoke drenched with sweat and called for a slave to bring me a dose of tomb lotus. I needed to dream and despite its prohibitive cost I knew I was close to my goal. I prepared the censors, cleansed myself with scented oils and placed the valuable dust onto the small coals I had heated while the slave was away. The dreams came upon me like a tenebrous tidal wave of unimaginable horror, tearing at my already strained sanity, I saw places, things, past, present, I awoke with a start, my sheets stained with sweat and blood, every orifice on my body having seemingly issued it, but I also had the knowledge I needed, clutching my naked body in cramped pain, I called for water to clean myself and sent a message to Xolotl to prepare his troop.

We travelled for many days to the villages where the young girls were secreted away, I had doused for many virgins and so knew the extent to which their families would go, even attempting to violate their own sisters and daughters rather than see them bled on the altars. The twins were a simple matter, the only hitch when a crippled elder flailed at the guards who were securing the girls, only to have Xolotl deliver a crushing blow to the old mans face with the pommel of his Obsidian blade. A days travel and we approached the our Last destination, I was feeling weak and drained as we arrived, a single black raven sat upon the gate post as we approached, brazenly squawking and dodging a small stone thrown by a soldier only to return to its vigil, an omen surely. I looked upwards and for a moment, the clouds shifted and I saw a dark light illuminated in my mind, the baleful star, it must be !!

We cautiously approached the homestead only to discover a girl sat waiting upon the wooden steps leading to the small farmhouse. She was small, with soft black hair, held back from her eyes with a band of folded cloth, but her eyes, were most striking, no pupils, only blackness, a void, I felt myself teetering on the edge of an abyss, the farm and soldiers around me momentarily vanished, then it was gone, I nodded at a soldier nearby and he approached the girl and placed his hand upon her shoulder, I saw the wince on her face before the rough fingers of the soldier had even touched her and felt the surging curse that ran up his arm and dropped him to the floor in pain, the baleful star indeed, he would not survive his next battle of that I felt sure. She came without a struggle, the weeping cries from within the farmhouse the only sound as we silently left, I felt a pit in my stomach all the way to the nine hells.

The rest of the journey went without incident although I could see the portents around us as we climbed the mountain by following a dried and scorched river up to the lower plateau. The river ended abruptly in a wall of ancient rubble, we had arrived, I felt sure of it. Xolotl and his men began to unload picks and tools and under my direction remove the stones. There was no joy in this work, the atmosphere one of oppression tinged with an almost deafening silence for no wildlife howled or barked its presence here. Clearing the rubble took a full three days and fatefully the soldier who had first laid hand upon the speaker was killed by a falling rock from the excavation, his brains rudely dashed out, the men were uneasy but fear of Xolotl kept them working and in check. It was mid morning when I got word that a passage had been uncovered, I hastily prepared myself in my tent and grabbing the tome hurried to the gathered crowd at the tunnel mouth. Xolotl nodded grimly, he was dust covered as he had ventured slightly in to ensure this was the place, I ordered the girls to be brought in their cage.

The walk into the darkness was tense and fear laden, only myself, Xolotl and four men to pull the small cart the cage was upon entered, the tunnel was large, its small opening belaying its actual size, the darkness seemingly swallowing our footsteps whole, only our breathing and the creak of the cart even penetrating our sense’s. There was something on the air also, I couldn’t tell what, I had smelt blood before, many many times, but this was different, an almost deeper timbre to it, though I know that is nonsensical, I could think of no other way to describe it. There were many other details which I barely took notice of, as I could feel something up ahead. Even in my darkest nightmares I could scare conceive what faced us when we stood at the entrance to what was obviously the heart of the cave.

At the centre of the circular chamber was an immense edifice, a fountain, but far larger than those even in glorious Mictlan, its black stone crusted with unnameable substances and its inky depths seemingly unmoving yet at the same time giving the impression of some deep turmoil. Clawing from the centre of the circular and darkened pool was a column standing as tall as two full grown men, each side an elegantly carved statue of a woman, arms folded across their breasts and head bowed, the pinnacle of the fountain a crown of cruel spikes. As beautiful in graven majesty the women were I could not look directly at their faces without feeling a wave of grotesque horror swell from my bowels. The soldiers were muttering in fear, but my time had come, clutching the black tome I stepped forward and motioned for the girl to be brought to me, Xolotl looking ashen faced nodded at his men who herded the winsome creature. Xolotl pushed her, enveloping the chamber an unearthly wail could be heard, imperceptible and yet terrifyingly real, it conveyed one emotion, hunger. Xolotl gritted his teeth and prodded the girl forward, I steeled myself opened the tome and grasped the girls wrist and began to slowly read the unutterable words contained within.

I continued the incantation aware of every fibre of my being, I could see dark red lights sparkling into life deep in the red velvet depths of the fountains pool, moving with a vitality of their own, some dark force rising and then the nearest statue looked up and uncrossed it arms, my words faltered so strong was my terror, but what could I do but continue for I feared unless I was successful I would never leave this chamber again and so I came to the final verse. Almost invisible, I could see a slender stone leading to the central column, the girl, as if sensing the call moaned and slowly walked forward to embrace her fate, the two twins were near hysterical and were being held down by Xolotl’s men, of the tribal warrior himself, I could see only his bowed head and hear his sobbing voice whispering insane denials at what we were witnessing.

Clambering onto the lip of the fountain the girl stood for but a moment and looked briefly over her shoulder at me as I stood, frozen in a mixture of macabre fascination and abject despair, her eyes were no longer black, in each the light of the baleful star she was born under shone with demonic light, sadness so eternally deep washed over me that I fell to my knees, able only to clutch my fevered brow and feel my body wrack with sobs. Slowly walking forward the each of the other statues raised it’s head and screamed an ethereal howl so filled with hellish bliss I sensed the men behind me hitting the ground, I knew not if they were dead, their souls simply torn away in the maelstrom of the oracle or unconscious out of sheer panic. As the girl took her Last steps, I could see the statue lift her in its arms and tenderly take her into a lovers embrace. The pools were now boiling, they Oily scum covered blackness gone, a devlish heat boiling the contents to a frothing and crimson swill. The howling had reached its loudest pitch and then suddenly, Silence.

The girl was no longer gripped by the statue, instead she stood at the foot of the fountain. I tried to speak, but could not muster the will to take breath, instead I inhaled and found myself involuntarily holding my breath, awaiting what would come next. Her eyes were swirling blackness, the evil star united with a greater spirit. Her mouth opened and remained open, but no words issued, instead the room echoed with the dread words.

“I am Zum-Zuaal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King” the cavernous voice echoed round the chamber, its force refusing to fade.

Regaining my composure “I-I-I am Tana…” I began, but the voice boomed

“I know who you are Tanacatecuhtli, Blood priest, you have served my will well, I have tasted your dreams.”, I nodded briefly, awed.

“But we have more still to accomplish” the voice was calmer, “But first, I have not tasted innocence in centuries, I demand blood and your reward shall be the first to feed me, Tanacatecuhtli” The voice wavered, I could sense its hunger and impatience.

Getting to my feet I surveyed my surroundings, Xolotl was weeping on the floor, his soldiers, dead or gone, the two remaining girls, hanging limply from their ropes in the cage. Quickly I gathered myself and moved to the wooden prison, letting the door swing loose, I drew my blade and cut the first girls free and dragged her into my arms, my strength had long since been drained and now only a will to live and serve this power drove me. Her feet leaving channels in the dust I dragged her to the feet of the fountain, and stood panting. Now I was closer I could see at each cardinal point of the Stone lip and indentation much like those I saw countless times on the sacrificial alters In Mictlan. Struggling her into place her head lolled back into the dip and I straddled her prostrate form, her slight breast’s heaving in anticipation of oblivion. Tears running down my face I drew my knife, and looked up, the statue was looking directly at me, urging me on, all I could hear was the rushing sound of my own blood pumping with deafening noise as I screamed the incantation of sacrifice and brought the wavering blade down in a wide slash across the girls throat. I could feel my own ecstasy rushing through me as the girls life blood rushed out and down into the ruddy depths, the pool contracting as would a parched throat gulping at sweet nectar.
I felt numb and barely felt the second sacrifice, mechanically performing the rite as though some grim automaton, elbow deep in innards and arterial spray making my visage all the more horrid. Hours passed as the ghoulish spirit spoke to me of its plans and how I was to execute them.

The one god had gone, the halls of eternity beckoned for those with a will to take up divinity, the time of Mictlan had come, the eater of children would arise and take his place amongst the stars and devour the new born of the world and those who served it well would stand at its side, wield its blades and delve into the viscera of its victims. All the while the girls mouth opening and closing rhythmically, but not in time with the insidious voice. I staggered into the sunlight, my purpose set, Xolotl’s brawny arms holding me up. It was now spring, I hadn’t noticed the passing of winter. I let out a sigh and we began our walk to the city, I had much news to pass to the priests.

[spirokeat]

Two Months of Spring in the first year of Acension.


Tanacatecuhtli, Mictlan Priest
We returned to the capital, tired, dazed but most assuredly not confused, our purpose gave us meaning, we were the chosen of Zum Zu’aal, we could feel his strength and will pushing us onwards. Many plans had to be made. Xolotl left to rally his warriors and I was left to prepare myself for the ordeals ahead, the cults had to be informed, though I was sure the Moon Priests would have felt the awakening and my suspicions were confirmed as I walked towards the Temple of the Moon, a chill quiet seemed to pervade the district, the few people I saw, hurried onwards quickly and my arrival at the marble steps of the temple went largely unnoticed.

I knew whom I sought, I needed allies if the new god were to rise and the Cults would not simply submit their will on bended knee, they would have to be bribed, cajoled and persuaded and bought, gold went a long way in religious circles, I sighed, once it used to be simply about the blood, but no longer, gold was its own unholy currency. Citalatonac, I knew would have sensed the rising power, he was well known for his powerful dream prophecy and also for the strength in his sacrificial arm. I knew our new god would make use of his powers if he could be bought. We had some small wealth, the remains of Xolotl’s tribal tithe, it had to be enough, but I that once a priest of Citalatonac’s status sided with us, the previous problems of church politics that plagued Xolotl would vanish and so would his income be restored.

I raised my hand to knock on the door and was faced with my own skeletal arm protruding from my sleeve, the months had taken their toll on me, shrugging off the memory I rapped my knuckles on the solid door. Citalatonac’s voice rang out in reply, deep and resonant
“Enter, Tanacatecuhtli”
With a deep breath I placed my fingers on the cool wood and pushed, the door swung silently inward. Citalatonac was seated behind a desk, scrolls littering the cluttered surface. Stepping into the room and closed the door behind me and turned to face the Moon Priest. Dark eyes and a sardonic smile met mine and I sensed immediately that Citalatonac knew why I had come.
“I sense a great purpose behind you, Tanacatecuhtli and I see the gold in your pouch. I fear that I will have a new master this eve, and perhaps a new purpose also.”
“You would do well to fear Citalatonac, what I serve is terrible in its malice, I would not care to think of the fate of one who disobeyed it, but what it promises for us…” My voice trailed off.
I dropped the gold onto the table with a dull clunk, two hundred and thirty pieces. A standard dowry for priestly service, I reflected that this was probably not quite the service the artificer of the sum had in mind.
“Tell me all you know” said Citalatonac.
The evening passed swiftly as I related what I had done, slaves were called and missives sent, the first grain of sand had fallen and would soon cause an avalanche, of that I felt sure. If we would be swallowed whole into the deserts was the question.

Xolotl, Tribal King
Xolotl knew his task was simple, he trusted Tanacatecuhtli to fulfil his side of the bargain and get his lands restored and in return he would levy his warriors and provide income to the new god to build his empire, it was all a warrior could have dreamed off. Still, even with the horrors of war and death that he had witnessed, what he saw that night in the cave had tested his sanity. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he walked into the barracks where his men were housed and barked orders, fifteen armoured spear and fifteen un-armoured spear, all skilled slingers gathered in the courtyard. There were soft murmurs from the men, some of whom had been on the journey with Xolotl and Tanacatecuhtli, none knew what to expect. Xolotl spoke simply.
“We go to war, be ready; we will march in once I have word from the borders”
Xolotl grinned. His men loved to fight and war meant one thing, profit and death. There was an excitement in the air now, the promise of gold and blood spurring their spirits on. Still, they had limited funds and if he were to be successful in his campaign he would need to enlist more men, but with any luck Tanacatecuhtli could persuade the temples to allow him to hire the fierce Jaguar and Eagle warriors, perhaps even the elite Sun warriors from the High Temple in their gleaming copper scale and blood red hatchets, he felt a swell of pride, his son had been accepted into their ranks and despite being killed In a border skirmish, he was not sad but honoured. But first, he needed banner men, and fighting in the large feathered headdresses of the tribes required long training, he would make the relevant offerings of gold before the month was out.

Zum-Zuaal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King
Zum Zu’aal could feel the changes around it like dark dreams, fully awakened it once more bent its great will upon the city in the plateau below, people would dream his name in their slumber and wake, with zeal and worship in their hearts. He knew the traditions, the priests would acknowledge him, for they could do little else in the face of his power, but they would still need their gold if they were to be effective. It could sense the two priests working on his behalf and the tribal leader capturing slaves from the nearby villages for warriors, it was a start, now he needed to begin to delve the mysteries again, much had changed, the spheres had shifted, old summonings would no longer work and so new ones must be divined but first, Thaumaturgy, it held the secrets of his Moon Priests powers of mental destruction and so he must bend his will on mastering mind burn.

Xolotl, Tribal King
As the month past Xolotl received word of what forces held the surrounding lands, to the south a great impassable mountain range which none in recent times had past to the east, Dershid, held by poorly organised Militia, Infantry and Archers. The archers better range could be a problem for his slingers, he would tackle that in time, above Dershid the large Greenwoods, again Archers and Infantry, though some heavy, he needed a softer target to get his men back into the swing of war. To the west and north west, Cacian Forest and Undrase, his runners reporting just Militia and Infantry, no missiles to tear through his ranks, perfect. He would sweep west and test his forces, then into Undrase where Tanacatecuhtli had promised to meet him with more men and temple backing.

Tanacatecuhtli, Mictlan Priest
Tanacatecuhtli confidence was growing, he had been called back to the great fountain and performed his first sacrifical rite in the name of the new god, word was spreading among the people and Citalatonac researching and entreating the other temples to allow us to access their warriors and most importantly the blood slave pens of the Temple of the High Sun. Xolotl was leaving for the west and he was ready to recruit the fearsome Jaguar warriors on behalf of Zum Zu’aal, the religious fever around the city was at a pitch he could barely dream. He just hoped Xolotl met with success for he feared for their souls if not.

Xolotl, Tribal King
Xolotl had ridden for many days before finally seeing the edge of Cacian Forest, his runners had kept him well informed of the quickly mobilizing enemy that surely knew he was coming, they planned to meet him in the forest eaves, a mistake on their part he knew but they were poorly trained militia no match for his troops, despite being more numerous, he would tempt them out and rake them with his slingers till they neared, then charge and trust his spear to keep casualties at bay. He could see them as his troops marched into position, fools, they had not gauged the distance of his slingers and their front ranks were just in range, the rank captain looked back to over his shoulder for command. Xolotl raised his hand, took but a moment to feel the wind on his face and then swept it down, the whip of leather slings cut the air and a hail of stone shot arced over the intervening distance and slammed into the surprised ranks, he saw two men fall, one with his head staved in and the other from some leg wound. The enemy charged, CRACK ! another volley from his sling and more men down. Xolotl grinned, shouted and watched with glee as the shining tips of his armoured spear lowered and prepared to move forward the forces clashed like a wave upon a beach and crashed backwards as his men thrust their steep tips forward into gullets and guts, the front ranks were crushed. It did not take long, their morale shattered the first rank of militia broke and routed in the face of Xolotl’s army. A second rank tried to stem the tide, but was swiftly cut down from sling fire and the thrust and slash of honed spearpoint. The day was his. Marching across the field he shouted for runners to be sent to Mictlan, the first battle was won.

[spirokeat]

Late spring and early summer, the first year of ascension


Tanacatecuhtli, Mictlan Priest
Tanacatecuhtli had heard of Xolotl’s success in the west, it boded well and now Citalatonac had mastered Mind Burn he would go to join him along with a dozen Jaguar warriors, their ferocity would strengthen Xolotl’s ranks especially with his blessings, the power of Zum Zu’aal conveyed great strength and fear to those sacred to the temples. Xolotl had requested that a squad of the swift eagle warriors be recruited in anticipation of the territories which had archers and so Tanacatecuhtli had left instructions with the relevant people and if it did not please Zum Zu’aal, he felt sure the spirit would let its will be known through its Bloodspeaker.
Tanacatecuhtli knew it was important that he travel with the armies also, he needed to douse territories for the suitability for virgin blood, if their plans were to come to fruition they would need a steady influx of sacrificial blood and the offerings the Temple of the high sun received would not be enough for the blood priests to call forth the armies of hell which he knew Zum Zu’aal would demand be called forth on his behalf, Tanacatecuhtli grimaced, he had read of the ancient blood magic’s and whilst adept himself, the deeper mysteries were shrouded and feared, Was it his imagination of had the room become colder ?, the tribes of Mictlan were used to the sun and worshiped its burning glare, but rarely if ever did they need to use fire’s for warmth as the land itself was more than temperate, moving to the hearth he piled logs and prepared to light a fire….

Mictlipoctli, King of Legends
I could hear whispers in my sleep, a voice, familiar, but the darkness was so warm it had embraced me for too long, who was I? I could barely remember, ahhh, yes, a king, but of where?, memories began to flood back. I stretched my senses and felt cold stone around me and something missing, perhaps I had awoken to despatch a mere thief? Who would dare steal from Mictlipoctli! I would string their innards around my tomb as a grisly ornament!, but no, the lid of my sarcophagus was intact, then some other reason had called me, perhaps the whispers ?. I must awaken fully and enter the world of the living again, my tenure in the underworld was over.

A Tomb Guard of Mictlan
The guard sighed and looked up as his post relief walked in, he had barely started eating the vine wrapped sweet meats his wife had given him this morning and now he would have to walk the tombs on a grumbling belly ! Still, with all the activity in the temples of late and the priesthood proclaiming a new god, he had better ensure he kept to his duties. Mind, he could always take them with him and stop in a tomb hall on the way for a quick bite, unlikely anyone would spot him there and he could always claim he was investigating a noise. Walking hurriedly the guard made for the halls of the low initiates they were always quiet, yes that would do nicely. Propping his spear against the wall next he sat down beneath the coffin filled alcoves and leant back on the wall removing the leaf wraps from his belt pouch, he could smell the lamb and spices, truly his wife loved him this was his favourite. Biting into the first cigar shaped package the guard munched satisfyingly, but it was with some surprise that the rasp of stone on stone broke his gastronomic reverie and looking up it was with greater surprise that he saw a large stone lid being shoved out of an alcove directly above him powered by the bandage wrapped and skeletal hand of its occupant. His shock was momentary as the huge stone lid finished its outward journey and crashed downward, unable to sit up quickly enough the guards Last thought was of the wasted second food parcel as the heavy stone lid struck him in the back of the skull sending rice, mined meat and brains onto the rooms floor.

Mictlipoctli, King of Legends
Mictlipoctli easily lifted the lid of his tomb from its resting place and outwards to the stone’s below, strangely it did not make a crash after he let it go but instead gurgled, this however was of a secondary concern as sitting up he was angered to see that his tome was missing from the foot of his resting place, he would rectify this. How long he wondered had he walked in the underworld, time there had little meaning for the dead had transcended its decaying grip. Noticing the guard’s prostrate form on the floor he wondered why he was being guarded, no one knew of his incarceration in this place, he had gone to rest in a secret place the tomb originally built for him filled with only death for the tomb robbers that would surely come for his great wealth. Grabbing the corpse by the throat he lifted it easily into the air blood and gore raining down from the cracked skull onto Mictlipoctli’s face like a refreshing ruby rain. Tossing the cadaver to one side as the bloody rain subsided the mummy contemplated its next move, it could feel the voice, whispering but it also wanted its tome back and striding into the darkness it left the slain guards corpse with its remaining eye looking forever more at the Last vine wrap that lay by its broken skull.

Tanacatecuhtli, Mictlan Priest
Tanacatecuhtli knelt in front of the small pile of wood he had placed in the hearth and prepared to light the small kindling placed beneath with a coal from the incense brazier he kept burning nearby. Concentrating on his task he did not see the door to his chamber swing silently open and framed against the light was a figure of legend from his nations past.
“Fires do not please me, Tanacatecuhtli, Blood Priest” The voice washed over Tanacatecuhtli like a sand scouring across desert bones drawing an involuntary shiver and forcing the kneeling priest to steady himself against the hearth.
Steadying himself as quickly as possible Tanacatecuhtli stood and spun round, eyes wide and teeth bared in a grimace of fear.
“Wh-Wh-Who are you?” the priest stammered, unable to master the gut wrenching fear that was emanating from the dusty figure in front of him. His memory was sluggishly recalling his venture into the tombs so months previous but the marked change from a dried husk to the night born terror which stood defiant in front of him seemed barely possible.
“Do you not recognise one of your Kings when he stands before you?” The mummified creature hissed from its desiccated mouth.
“You have something which belongs to me, return it or face my wrath”, The threat did not fall on deaf ears and Tanacatecuhtli, quickly turned to his papers and uncovered the black tome which he had taken and shakily proffered it to the figure’s bandaged and outstretched hand.
“Mictlipoctli?” ventured Tanacatecuhtli, the husk nodded and the jagged hole which formed its mouth stretched into a grim rictus. Tanacatecuhtli could scarcely believe his eyes, here in front of him was the most legendary and bloody king Mictlan had ever known.
“We will no doubt meet again, Tanacatecuhtli” the voice murmured, “I feel we share a common destiny” and before another word could be said, the thin figure turned and shambled from the chamber leaving Tanacatecuhtli, shakily reaching for the flask of spirits in his desk.

Zum-Zuaal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King
Zum Zu’aal could feel the figure making its way from the city such was the power it emanated; he also knew which of the great ones had answered his call first. Mictlipoctli, King of Legend had returned from the depths of the underworld to serve the Eater of Children, the heads of the four statues shifted and graven smiles crossed the unholy faces of the women. Languishing on the stone lip of the edifice the young girl could feel the heat of the blood splashing onto her exposed flesh and knew instinctively that her master was pleased, she slid a delicate hand over the side and felt the warm vitae reach up to meet her fingers.
“A great ally comes, my sweet one, I will speak to him through you” the girl nodded and slid backwards into the fountains warmth. Mictlipoctli strode into the chamber that he had slain a thousand virgins in.

Xolotl, Tribal King
Xolotl was pleased with his progress, Lama to the west of Cacian forest had fallen easily with little casualties although some of his slave warriors had lost their lives in the Last skirmish and now a moon priest and Tanacatecuhtli had joined him bringing a squad of Jaguar warriors with him, the recent battles had fired his blood and the tone of command and presence he now exuded was bolstering the men’s morale, the jaguar warriors would only add to that. He had seen them fight before but it was when they were injured they became most dangerous, their flesh rippling and changing into the fearsome were-jaguars becoming bestial with increased strength and battle prowess.

Undrase was his next target and reports had told him they had archers, which probably meant that he could levy them if they could take it. He had not wanted to face arrow fire without either his own to counter or the eagle priests to fly swiftly over the battle field to engage them before they could do too much damage. Still, if he placed his slaves up front to draw the arrow fire, and his armoured spear behind to soak up overshot he could put his own weaker slingers to the left to give cover to the charging ranks and place the jaguar warriors to the right and told to charge straight in. He was positive the infantry would break under such force and minimise any damage. Tanacatecuhtli had told Xolotl of the return of the legendary king, that must be a good sign, though he wondered what horrors the mummy would call for him to fight alongside, these were interesting times indeed reflected Xolotl, two weeks to Undrase another battle, then rest while the moon priest, Citalatonac searched for sites of power, it would give him time to capture some slaves from the surrounding countryside and possibly gain some archers of his own, that would take him into summer, not the fastest advance, but a strong one none the less, he hoped the god would be pleased.

[spirokeat]

Summer to Autumn in the First Year of Ascension

A Mictlan Spearman
The soldier looked up into the darkening skies and wiped the rain from his brow, the troop had been marching for over two weeks to reach the plains of Undrase. He felt good, the battle pay he had already earned would see his wife well for many seasons and the unborn son he had left would have a hero for a father, the first advance of the new god’s army, surely he was blessed. Despite being soaked to the skin he didn’t mind the rain as he knew they faced archers and it would limit their fire somewhat although it made his hide shield feel heavy on his arm as it soaked up water. He could feel the life of his tribal brothers around him, their breath, like dragon smoke billowing from their mouths in the moist air, the creak of leather and dull clank of wooden haft on hide shield. A quick check of his pouch told him he had a full fifteen stones for his sling, though he knew they would be making a paced charge this time shields held high and spears level. The Jaguar warriors intrigued him, he had wanted to join their ranks as a child but the priests had passed him over and so he had joined the regular army instead.
“Spears level! Shields aloft!!” came the bellowing voice of Xolotl their commander.
The soldier was proud to fight under Xolotl, his mere presence made him feel more confident, the same feeling the feathered warriors gave him when he saw their garish antics in the middle of battle.
The air was filled now not just with rain but tension, he looked left and saw one of his brothers briefly pray to Zum Zu’aal to keep him safe and give him luck this day, the new god’s name felt strange, but who was he to question a god ?.
“Charge!” Came the shout.
The soldier began to jog forward, spear levelled, shield up, he smiled and saw his wife waving him off from their hut her long hair cascading down her shoulders in a bronze waterfall and the small bulge in her tummy glowing with health.
Then he saw them through the haze of the rain, a forest of spear tips in the distance and a wall of round shields. He could hear a buzzing in the air and heard the whisper move through the ranks
“Arrows!, shields high !” The was a thud next to him, his brother who had prayed was clutching at a feathered shaft which protruded from his throat, blood gouting from around the hole, it looked black in the rain, blood was so very important he thought, it kept you alive. There was another thud, a steel arrowhead plunged through his shield but was stopped by the leather which had tightened in the rain, he mentally promised to make a donation at the Temple of the Rain when he got home and then the front ranks hit their infantry with a crash. Deflecting a spear with his shield the soldier thrust at an approaching enemy who was forced back by the attack, the warrior to his right went down, transfixed by an arrow and he could hear the whip of sling shot hitting the ranks ahead of him, another warrior took his place. Then he heard a great roar, a warrior in furs to the right of him had dropped his obsidian sword when a spear had grazed his torso, quicker than the soldier could follow great claws had burst through flesh and giant fangs grown from what was now the muzzle of a jaguar, he had never seen the transformation before, it was startling. With a lightning fast leap, the were-jaguar leapt forward, claws tearing at the shocked infantry man who went down under the weight of the now massive creature.

Xolotl, Tribal King
Xolotl filled the cup of his sling with a large stone shot and began the hopping spin that would send the stone hurtling with deadly force towards his enemies. He could see an infantry man flanking one of his men who was watching a jaguar warrior tear into the enemy, what was he thinking! the man would run him through surely. Xolotl loosed the stone ball towards the infantryman and was dismayed to see it bounce off the leather cuirass of the soldier. Then Citalatonac was next to him, arcane words echoing partly in Xolotl’s mind and partly in the moist air, he pointed at the spearman as he began to thrust and a white column erupted from the top of the enemy’s cranium. The soldier emitted a high pitched screech as his mind was burned like parchment in a brazier and letting go of his spear dropped to the floor slain. Xolotl felt for another stone in his pouch, but the cries of the dying could not drown out the shouts of victory as his men began to chase the broken army of Undrase from the field, he could see the soldier Citalatonac had saved stabbing at the now vulnerable rank of archers and he smiled, he remembered the young lad speaking of his soon to be born son with glee the night before. Maybe he would be lucky enough for Zum Zu’aal to devour him once born, now that would be an honour!.

Citalatonac, Moon Priest
Citalatonac was worried, they had taken three territories now and despite searching none had revealed any sites of power, he knew other priests from the temple of the land and the temple of the rain would follow on in his wake to search but he had hope to find a painted cave at the least in these old tribal lands, still the addition of more captured slaves and the newly recruited archers that Xolotl and Tanacatecuhtli had hired would serve them well, the forest of Mag was their next target and they had word of a Priest King joining them with Eagle warriors on the borders next at the start of the month.

Zum-Zuaal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King
Zum Zu’aal bubbled in contemplation as his mind listened to the thoughts and dreams of his growing followers, he would need a prophet to spread his word soon, but none had shown their worth, the ancient mummy was a possibility but he was too precious to send forth into battle now and the spirit needed someone to preside over the sacrifice of children in the outlaying provinces to ensure his word spread. There were other things to attend to in the meantime. The arrival of Mictlipoctli so soon was an unexpected boon and the people would see it as an omen, however he had not had time to prepare the tools the mummy would need, the mysteries of enchantment needed to be plunged so that they could cage a spirit of the underworld into a mortal corpse and create a revenant to assist Mictlipoctli in diving site’s of death.
“Mictlipoctli!” Echoed the blood drenched girl, her head lolled to one side and mouth open and drooling.
“Yes, my god?” Whispered the ancient mummy as it approached the stone structure.
“I wish you to create me an army of death, to herald my name and usher the destruction of all who oppose me!” The ethereal shrieking shifted pitch in harmony with the demand.
“Give me access to your blood slave pens and in the absence of death, I shall raise the skeletons of demons from their unholy graveyards to march in your glorious name” the words slithered like sand on glass from the shrivelled mouth.

Mictlipoctli, King of Legends
Mictlipoctli watched as the young blood speaker hopped up onto the lip of the statue and was embraced by the seemingly living statues at the centre, the rites to call for bone fiends were not solely in the province of blood, requiring knowledge of death also. The cults had lost their affinity for death when that old Couatl had banished his cult an age ago so he knew he would be alone in his work. Still, in the months that had passed since the rising of the Jaguar king, the temples blood pens had filled and he knew he would have enough innocents to slay to call the bone fiends forth. He marched from the cave and issued orders to the waiting attendants to prepare the summoning circles and other paraphernalia he needed, including the six innocent lives whose blood he needed to power the ritual.

Tzitzimime, Priest King
Tzitzimime had felt a swell of pride when one of the attendants of the new god had entered the temple of the land with the offerings of gold which would bind him to service, he knew other priest had been bound, but he was the first of his temple. Tzitzimime had acted as a priestly leader to the kingdom for many years but yearned for the legends of the old ways when blood flowed like a great flood and the empire was rising. Since meeting Mictlipoctli he had been unable to shake the feeling that it might happen again in his time and it pleased him greatly. Taking command of a flight of the eagle warriors he had been told to take them and some reinforcements to Mag and join up with Xolotl the tribal king currently leading the nation’s main army. If all was well he would accompany them to ensure the blessings of Zum Zu’aal were given to the warriors in their eagle feather cloaks and also to capture more slaves, but most importantly, seek out sites to gather the elusive but essential gems of nature needed to fuel the powerful rituals his temple possessed. One week was all he needed and he would be on his way while the summer sun beamed down its blessing of fertility upon the rich lands of Mictlan.

A Blood Slave
The young girl looked fearfully up from the cage as she heard the guards approach, as naïve as she was, her future fate did not escape her. At fourteen seasons she had kept her innocence in the hope of meeting a fine husband but instead she had been given by her parents as a gift to the temple of the sun in return for land favour, she sobbed and wished that the new god would devour them instead of her. The thought sobered her and she sniffed and wiped the tears from her dusty face, the other five girls around her had either cried themselves to sleep or were near hysterical with fear. The slave keeper looked impassively on as the priest and guards that accompanied him spoke to him, he handed them the keys. Quickly the cage was opened the girls herded out to be examined by the priest and each handed a white robe to wear and chained in a line with slim silver shackles as each set of shackles were fitted, the girls quieted and became dazed and mindless, at Last the line came to her and the cold silver of the clamp placed around her slim ankle, she could feel the warmth flowing up her leg and try as she might, could not prevent its sinuous crawl up her flesh, as the feeling reached her neck she gave one Last fearful gaze at the stone faced priest and then her mind was lost to the passive feelings generated by the shackles and with a tap from a scabbard hilt, the line was lead off into the corridors of the temple and who knew where.

A Temple Priest
Approaching an ornate door of steel and obsidian etched stone the white clad line came to a halt, the priest approached the door and grasped a grotesque looking iron heart held fast by a dagger piercing it and swinging from a chain which lead to the nose ring of a demonic beast of some kind. The iron heart rang out with a boom as it met the metal of the door. Without a word the doors began to slowly open revealing a large chamber beyond, tiered steps leading downwards to an octagonal centre, ringed by braziers with gleaming red coals winking from their depths. Stepping through the steel doors the priest barely acknowledged the robed and hooded figure beckoning the figures in white forward, columns of dark incense curling snake-like from the braziers around it. A distant thunder pealed through the priests mind, perhaps a storm? , no, drums, rhythmic and pulsing like some dread theme to the grisly events unfolding.

The priest could see markings on the floor around the figure, arcana that even as an adept of blood magic, he could not decipher. The girls took up positions around the figure even though the priest could hear no commands being issued; only the deep boom of the drums seemed to penetrate the heavy atmosphere of the laboratory. In position the robe girls remained frozen like statues as the figure in the centre of the circle look around surveying that all was indeed ready and reaching up pulled back the black hood which obscured his features revealing a scene of tomb wrought horror to the observing priest, desiccated and shrivelled with hollow eye sockets and thin dried hair protruding from between crusted bandages long since bonded as one with the leathered flesh. Animated by his own dark will the mummy began to inscribe symbols in the air with his clawed hand, the incense in the air drifting inwards and seeming to hold into place as each mark was written in the air. Shambling slowly round followed by swirls of dark smoke that clung to the now numerous black symbols hanging in the air Mictlipoctli finished the circle and shot a hollow eyed glance at the nearest girl who lurched forward and into his chilling grasp. Stepping behind her and producing a murderously curved blade from within the mysterious innards of his robe the mummy raised the blade and with one quick movement brought the keen point deep into the gullet of the motionless girl. Yanking the blade free and her head back with one skeletal fist clutching her hair Mictlipoctli directed the now spurting arterial spray into the midst of the drifting symbols. Still silently observing the proceedings the priest watched as the blood where it met the smoke disappeared and did not pass downwards to the ground but instead ripped small holes in the very fabric of reality as though shattering a window to another place, more and more tears were appearing as the rhythmic gouts of the girls life force pumped forth directed by the steel grip of Mictlipoctli. The air in the circle looked like a curtain with a thousand tiny holes burned through it and some dark other place could be glimpsed beaming through and lifting the now spent remains the mummy hurled the corpse forward at the punctured veil. As though struck by a large stone the very air gave way as the blood covered remains struck the centre of the smoke circle and revealed fully beneath was another place that reached out to places in the mind and imagination that should never be thought, let alone seen. Stretching off for as far as the eye could see was a field of cracked bones, as though some eternal battle had been fought and each fallen warrior decayed unto bones, the clawed remains of charred trees reached their clawed stumps upwards from the landscape of bones as though trying to grasp the dark and billowing skies, periodically lit by unseen flashes of lightening.

Mictlipoctli, King of Legends
Moving quickly Mictlipoctli called forth a second blood slave who mechanically stumbled into his deadly grasp, again the blade flashed and her throat was slit, a brutal gash rendering her smiling in her own imminent death as she was lifted over the pulsing portal and her life force ebbed downwards onto the bone floor. Speaking for the first time the unliving king echoed a calling as the first droplets of blood reached the parched bone floor, the words spoken in the ancient tongue of blood which as an adept the priest understood
“That which eternal lies, and with countless aeons even devils die, be bound by this deaths call and serve my will till thy own scythe falls.”
The words echoed into the black eternity of the place beyond and with a grisly cracking some of the bones began to move towards the now pooling blood on the floor beyond the veil. Clawed arms reached from the very ground as the bones boiled around the focal point and a fiend of death and blood lifted itself from the graveyard of demons from which Mictlipoctli had called it. Quickly reaching for another slave the process was repeated and again another hell born bone fiend was raised from its own torment. The priest noticed the smoke which bubbled at the edge of the veil was drifting free and where it left, the laboratory could be seen as the natural order reasserted itself and nature healed the wound which the blood had caused. Finishing the third summoning, the priest was startled to see a skeletal claw reach out through the veil and grasp the edge and begin to pull itself upwards, free from the hellish prison it had been born in, then another claw and another bone fiend. The priest looked dismayed but Mictlipoctli stood as though stone, the final girl gripped tightly in his grasp as the third bone fiend escaped from its infernal incarceration. Advancing menacingly the fiends bore down on the immobile form of the King of Legends, then at the Last moment, the final offering was thrust into the charging path of hell, tearing at the sweet blood within the white robe was slashed by the razor claws of the beasts and where each swipe fell, crimson pearls scattered through the air as the frenzied creatures slashed and gored the sacrifice. Meanwhile with chilling words issuing from his evil maw, the mummy spoke words of binding upon the fiends. The priest closed his eyes; he could not imagine having to go through such an ordeal. Bound to the summoners will the fiends, gore smeared stood still after their unholy feast.
Mictlipoctli turned to his awestruck attendant and said simply.
“Prepare the laboratory; we perform the summoning again on the next favourable conjunction”.

Xolotl, Tribal King
The battle of Mag was short-lived, the new archers that Xolotl had recruited in conjunction with the sling shots of the Mictlan troops had decimated the incoming infantry and though some slaves and a few warriors had been lost when the blessings of Zum Zu’aal had touched the wings of the fanatical eagle warriors the Priest King had brought they soared high into the air and rained death from above on the small group of archers and commanders that sat in mistaken safety at the back of the battle. It was true the poorly protected eagle warriors had suffered casualties but their purpose was served well and he knew more would follow from the capital. They were to remain a month while Citalatonac and Tzitzimime searched for magical places. He would busy himself with the rowdy and unruly residents of the wood, this was a wild place alright, he suspected bandits or insurgents were rife and he would patrol the next weeks to subdue them and fill his own slave quota.

Citalatonac, Moon Priest
Citalatonac had been searching the province for over two weeks when he came upon the first signs, a rune, carved into the bark of a tree. It was a simple code for those who knew the arts of magic and meant knowledge. Could there be a guild of some kind hidden in these woods? Tzitzimime was searching the forest also and he felt sure between them they would uncover what they sought. It had taken a further week of probing before he had spotted the squat tower jutting from the tops of the trees, he smiled as Tzitzimime followed his direction and caught sight also and together they walked through the trees towards the clearing where a robed figure awaited them at the foot of the tower. Citalatonac mentally prepared himself as they approached in case the figure proved hostile, but he was confident that between them they could handle most things and as they approached the figure called out.
“Declare yourself, who approaches this place of knowledge” the figure called.
“I am but a servant of Zum Zu’aal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King” Citalatonac replied.
The figure nodded and gestured they approach. Citalatonac remained still and made a further challenge
“Do you acknowledge the divine will?”
There was a brief pause and the sage merely nodded and walked back into the tower, the door left open, the Mictlan priests looked briefly at each other and followed in.

Xolotl, Tribal King
Tanacatecuhtli seemed pleased when Xolotl gave him the news that the other priests had uncovered a Sage’s guild but he needed the priests help in uncovering the continuing unrest in the region, they had already killed half a dozen trouble makers but Xolotl felt certain there was some root cause of this trouble and he knew the priests had a nose for blood, so he had enlisted Tanacatecuhtli on the patrols. Sure enough, they had tracked down a Brigand’s lair and the priest was even now bribing the brigands and telling them of the new god, Xolotl sighed, he would have liked to just slay them out of hand, but he knew they would simply return in another place, it was unlikely this region would be quelled fully and the taxes would have to be light to keep the peace. Still, the bandit leader had told him something of the forces that would face him as they passed from the eaves of this forest and further east into Ligrea, apparently a tribe of lizardmen resided there and even the villains in this wood avoided them as they ate human flesh if they caught it. Still, they used tridents for battle and no missile’s, he would spend the month the priest had asked for recruiting more archers here and then play a holding action and let the lizards run the gauntlet of stone and arrow to get to his troops, he felt sure that would take the bite out of them, chuckling at his own joke Xolotl returned to the conversation at hand as the priest shook hands with the grubby bandit and turned back to Xolotl with a smile.

[ July 27, 2004, 13:59: Message edited by: spirokeat ]

[sachmo]

Good story, but it made my stomach hurt a bit.

[sachmo]

-dp-

[ July 27, 2004, 13:55: Message edited by: sachmo ]

[spirokeat]

thanks for the bump Mad, appreciated. I haven't had chance to continue story as I went on holiday and then had some Uni work to contend with. Hopefully I should be back to it shortly !

Spiro

[spirokeat]

This AAR is actually still active, I have a lot more written. I will post at some point soon.

[Endoperez]

It has been a long time, but this is very well written. I'm just afraid finishing an AAR like this would take years... On the other hand, we don't know for sure that you haven't used a year just writing more of this.

[spirokeat]

I must apologise for the lack of proofreading and probably lots of grammatical mistakes. I just fire it off into a wordprocessor.

When I do write its fast, but I took a break from playing DOM (it was eating me alive) and so suspended the game. Plus im experimenting with how to pace the AAR, the early bit when new things are happening is longer to write, but Im thinking that as the turns speed up and become routine I will be able to pass chunks of time and so let the game progress. I dunno, I never expected it to be so long.

Thanks for the comments though Endo.

Spirokeat