MP Game - Yarnspinners

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 52 ----

There is a wall at Godsgrave Mountain. From a distance it is nearly invisible against the backdrop of the range, but up close it is clearly the work of some master craftsman, though the blocks, each as large as a house, bespeak the work of giants and not men. When we first entered the valley a heavy mist hung between the peaks, and the wall seemed to stretch on forever on either side.

"The Jervellan Wall..." breathed Todd in reverent tones, "At last."

Rumors hold that the Vans maintain a stronghold behind the wall, and one of their temples. The same whispers in the night say that the Vans sometimes sacrifice human women upon their alters. This curse of blood seems to lurk in the shadows everywhere. (There is even word from the Sinking Lands that a blood hunter has been caught there, attempting to revive those evil ways. I am uneasy leaving his justice in the hands of the triplets, but I cannot dictate policy everywhere in the empire.) Yet we have seen no sign of Van since we arrived.

Limmy has been here alone for several months, and clearly felt the solitude and whispering silence of this vale. He greeted me as his best friend in the world, and insisted on entertaining me in his quarters (a ramshackle lean-to against the cold blocks of the wall) with the finest foods in the valley (fried snake, and something I can only hope was bunny). He wanted to see my sword of course, which I've named Tempest, and hear the story of the battle with One-eyed over and over again.

It is odd to have his respect. I guess he has always admired my ability to win battles, but for would-be gods like Limmy, the ability to take and hold ground, the value of winning without fighting battles, and the subtly of maintaining an army months in the field in unfriendly and unfamiliar terrain - all these pale against the glory of one on one combat on the battlefield. And so at last I earn his respect, thanks to the aid of... Athena... or whoever really gave me this sword. Respect, and even a little bit of fear perhaps- with a little laugh Limmy showed me his special breastplate and said that it was protection against lightning. "Not that you should try here!" he was quick to reassure me.

I suppose I've gained a little respect for Limmy's own brand of crazy heroism. The Jervallan Wall is unscalable and totally indestructible. The mountains on either side are death for those who venture there, and the wind, which whips down off the frosty peaks, forestalled his attempts to fly over with one of those thrice-cursed pairs of boots. So Limmy has singlehandedly dug a tunnel underneath the wall. He must have moved several tons of earth, and is almost done. "Tomorrow!" he boasted, "we will finally break through. And then..." here his face turned reflective, "I will go somewhere without dirt."

That'll make Todd happy. We'll reclaim his ancestral home, all will be forgiven and forgotten between these two peoples, and I will stop fighting this dying race of seafarers. Stop fighting them, and then what? I am not a bloodthirsty warrior. I have no dreams of conquest. But I do not fool myself into believing that the future holds peace for me.

In the west, the world is burning. Smoke rises every day, and waves of broken and starving refugees have been staggering into our borders with tales of horror and destruction. The forces of R'lyeh have risen up from every deep place, and stained every beach in blood. For what mad purpose none can tell, but I know in my heart that I will march that way also, and fight this rising tide for as long as I can bear arms.