PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2 (Running)

[puffyn]

(At some point I'm sure I'll get lazy and just post to the wiki, but for our loyal readers who have not yet found the wiki, here's my first turn, aka "Turn 3". To see Turn 0, you'll have to go to the wiki.

--- C'tis, Turn 3 ---

KEE-RACK

"Are you sure we should be in here?" The dank air hung closely around the two little lizards as they struggled to see, to find movement their eyes could latch onto. So far the darkness was winning.

"You scared, little egg-brother?" came the taunting reply. Laph's cohort had hatched a mere four days before his, and she wasn't about to let him forget it. Ruli ignored her, and focused on trying to find what they'd come for. It was his idea, after all.

KR-R-R-R-R...

There, by the shaft of warm air. A few photons, much battered after their long passage through tiny crevasses and barely perceptible cracks in the rock, were bouncing again, this time off of something vaguely off-white, on the far side of the cavern. And it was definitely moving.

"Found 'em!" said Laph, as Ruli opened his mouth to announce his discovery. She had sharper eyes than him, too. They skittered over to the weary dancing photons, eyes locked now on subtle movements they hadn't noticed before.

... ck

When the tiny lizard finally broke through, the final bit of eggshell popped off with an anticlimactic whisper. The hatchling took a hesitant step forward, stopped, then looked around wide-eyed, taking in the nest; already, cracks were forming on two other eggs, and three more were not far behind. His eyes moved next to the two slightly larger lizards hovering over him, one of them staring at him with great fascination... and the other busily scooping his discarded egg shell into a bag. The hatchling began to cry.

"Oh, now look what you've done, Ruli," said Laph, hastily scouring the floor for something.

"They have to be fresh," Ruli protested. "Great-grandfather says otherwise they don't have enough life force left for his incantations to work, and ..." And she wasn't listening to him, again.

But at least the hatchling was no longer crying. He was making happy gurgling sounds as he shook something that looked suspiciously like a falchion, but rattled. "I always knew the elite nurseries were well taken care of," said Laph, "but wow. Remember Crotalus?"

The legendary sacred serpent, from when Mother Gehyra was a hatchling, the one who drove the scale-leavers from the land, and spoke persuasively with a certain dragon about relocating his lair... He remembered the stories. "I think that rattle was his," said Laph.

"Oh," said Ruli. What lucky hatchlings. I bet Cole will take them on raids with him long before Laph or I get to go. He turned to leave. "Laph?" She had disappeared. "C'mon, stop playing games." He looked all around, but she had vanished. "If Cole finds us here..."

"He'll eat you for dinner, is that it?" There was a deep chuckle. Ruli jumped, then looked up, and saw Laph high above him, dangling by her tail. "Now why would I want to eat such enterprising and scrawny youngsters as yourselves, when the world is brimming with fat, lazy warm-blooded prey?"

The giant head bent slowly down, placing Laph gently on the ground. Her eyes shone with excitement; Ruli wondered idly why he was the only one whose first response, on meeting the huge carnivorous lizard up close, was a little healthy fear.

But do stop bothering the hatchlings, said Cole. They're no good to me terrified. He turned to the remaining five eggs, intently watching one whose cracks were beginning to grow.

Ruli grabbed his bag of eggshell, nudged Laph out of her reverie, and they skittered quickly toward the exit tunnel. "Did you see me?" said Laph, a little breathlessly. "I must've been nearly a thousand centimeters in the air!" They were almost out of the birthing cavern when they heard Cole's voice again.

"Do be patient, Ruli," he said. "There will be plenty of battles left for you when you are ready for them." The last thing Ruli and Laph heard as they scampered out of the cavern was the sound of a rattle shaking, and a very deep voice saying, "Coochie-coochie-coo."

---

[djo]

Here's Vanheim's turn 3 yarn. For turn 0, and all the rest, see the wiki (link in my sig).

Vanheim Turn 3

In which Vethru arrives and considers what he's arrived to, and Pherios finds himself with greater, more exciting responsibilities.


Vethru

There are many ways to begin...philosophical, historical, paradoxical, with excitement, with romance, with suspense, literally, literarily, literately, emotionally, intellectually, viscerally, whimsically...but let's try factually on for size.

I'm returning empty-handed from a distant land where, I kid you not, the people are ruled by baker-kings, when I meet the old man at a crossroads. We're in one of those synesthetic dimensions where you feel like you're walking on music, and every time you open your mouth, it looks like the dreams of an abstract expressionist. I wasn't having any trouble with it, but he looked very puzzled.

"Ho, traveler," he says, calling down from his horse. "Do you know this land? I seem to have lost my way."

Maybe it has something to do with the fact he's only got one eye. Before I can answer, he asks, "Is that a seagull on your shoulder?"

"Yes," I tell him. "He's a pet." I say this mostly because Ji hates being called a pet.

"Are you a sailor, then? I am searching for land of sailors."

"I was," I say. There's something wrong with the stranger beside his eye; his appearance is very uncertain, very shaky. In this dimension, it comes across like an indistinct mix of aromas from a dozen kitchens. (I still can't get that baker's land out of my mind!)

"A sailor, and a bird lover! Fate has brought me just the man I need. I, too, have birds. Usually, they guide me, but I cannot find them. Have you seen two ravens in your travels?"

I had, and they were delicious. "I saw them down the right fork," I tell him, because I'm sensing something very, very interesting down the left fork. "Not too far along, either."

"Excellent," he says. "Thank you, old sailor, and may the wind be at your back." He straightens in his saddle. "I must be going; they are waiting for me."

After he disappears down the right fork, I follow the prayers I hear down the left fork. Don't judge me. I really was a sailor, once. Besides, he would've done the same to me, if I'd given him the chance. You can't trust a god, ever.

It's a dark and stormy night when I finally arrive. It's a normal world, where light goes in your eyes, and sound comes out of your mouth. Everything looks very old, which is good for what I'm looking for. But as you'd expect, they summoned me to the newest, cleanest temple. The priests are just like that one eyed old man, tall, with that shimmering, wavy appearance. I walk out into the courtyard, and it's filled with humans and a few more of the tall ones.

It becomes apparent they feel some dire need to conduct military exercises for me, in the rain, at midnight. They're all very enthusiastic, very eager to pledge their loyalty and honor and lives to me. I accept, of course, with great dignity. I let them parade back and forth a couple times, then I send them home so I can get out of the rain.

A couple hours later, after being introduced to a passel of Vanherses and Vanjarls, I'm finally left alone.

"I don't know," I say. "They're a fine fighting force, but honor and purity of heart will only get you so far."

Ji squawks. "Yeah, boss, I don't think these guys are cut out for back-alley wet work."

I'm wondering if I shouldn't have let One-Eye have them when there's a noise of the door. A wild eyed human is there. He's dressed in brown, and he's got a scraggly beard. "Come with me, if you would," he says. "There's more to see." He gives me a wink and a grin and a nod, so I follow him.

Around the back of the castle, in a dark, overgrown courtyard, are another dozen like him. No mounts, no spears or javelins for them. Big swords and axes. Not a one of the men is unscarred.

"This land's light and dark," he says. "These're your folk, too."

He takes me out the gate. The rain's stopped, and the wind blows the clouds from the moon. A beam catches a group of men milling around the base of a tower belching thick smoke. They make the einhere look tame. No armor, only furs. They twitch in the moonlight, snuffle as I pass. My guide pulls open the tower's rotting door, and as I enter and descend, I hear howls behind me.

In the flickering firelight, dark shapes work. Clanging punctuates the flare and spark of hot metal being hammered. A tall shape among the small limps toward me. She's got the usual uncertain presence, but unlike the boys out front, with their shine and dazzle, her misdirection is all oily shadow.

She's not a pretty picture. Her head's tilted over to touch an ear to a shoulder. Her skin is waxy blue-grey. Her bloody eyes bulge. The edges of her mouth twist upward, baring her teeth. I choose to interpret it as a smile.

This, I can work with.




Pherios

The castle on Paistellus is the second highest point in the city. From here, you can see the surrounding mountains and badlands, the plains to the north, and the Black Gorge to the south. The land looks just like it did the first time I saw it, when I was a boy. It's not. Nothing's the same. Everything has changed.

Yesterday I was summoned before the Konella Koreia. I never thought I'd see them when I was so young. Someday, sure. Our House often sits on the council. Belletennares does right now. But I thought I'd be a few hundred years older before I had the chance to serve.

I was nervous, and excited, but I told them my dream, answered their questions, and offered my service to them.

"Vanheim accepts your service, Pherios of Alteion," their leader said. "This is what we require: Vethru has sent for you. Our orders to you are to serve him."

Later I learned that the Konella Koreia gave Vethru its approval to rule over Vanheim. But right then, they escorted me on wobbly knees to a library in the castle to meet Vethru.

I had been there when he arrived, of course. Belletennares had rushed us to Vanheim just in time for that. I didn't get a good look at him, on that dark night. Now, in person, Vethru was a paradox. He sat at a table with a pile of books in front of him, just a small, gray-faced old man, yet he radiated power like the greatest of Vanjarls. His violet eyes were clear and piercing.

"So you're the one who foresaw my arrival," he said.

"Yes, sir," I said. There was a gull standing on the table. It walked a few steps forward and tipped its head toward me.

"Have you seen anything more?" he asked. He seemed kind. His voice was grandfatherly, and he was almost smiling. "I'd pay well for accurate predictions of the future."

"Well...I see things, but I can't always tell what it means. I mean, I may see something that eventually might happen, but I can't always figure out the symbols until after. I may not even know the people involved until later, when I've heard what happened." The bird was definitely watching me. Birds are usually twitchy. Their heads always jerk from one side to another. This gull was staring right at me. "I could describe exactly what I see. Which may mean nothing. That's the best I can promise. And I don't need to be paid. I serve Vanheim. That's all the payment I need."

He laughed. "An honest seer! That's something I haven't seen in a long time." Then he studied me. I couldn't look away from his eyes. It seemed like he could see into my soul, and I was afraid of what he'd find--a Van too young to know what nonsense he was wasting a god's time with.

But then he did smile, a real smile. "I need your eyes," he said. And with that, he made me head of the seers. Which right now is only me, but he says there will be more. It's my job to watch the skies and record what I see. I'll get to look at all the reports of the armies and their scouts and spies, so I can recognize the significance of what I'm seeing.

"And keep studying magic," he said. "We've got a lot to do. I'll need you even more later."

So now I study magic and theology in the mornings, and I read reports and orders in the afternoon. In the evenings, I study more, or I train with the spear and the javelin with my uncle and my cousins, until I'm ready to fall asleep in the saddle.

In the moments in between, I come up to the high places and watch the skies. Everywhere I look, I see things. The spring skies are turbulent. The gulls are everywhere, chasing away the other birds. The winds sculpt the clouds into shapes that twists and battle in the air. I write it all down in my notebook.

Today, from my turret high in the castle, I saw someone on the slopes of Triastellus, someone who, like me, was watching the sunset. She was sketching the shifting columns of red and purple clouds. Now and then, she would gather her papers and fly to another spot for a better view. I wondered who this Valkyrie was. I waved to her, to try to get her attention, but she didn't see me.

I had been watching her for half an hour when birds began to flock around her. She didn't seem to notice. Gulls circled, and I caught flashes of a white bird, and a black one. They formed a maelstrom around her, then, moments later, I couldn't see her or the birds in the gathering twilight.

That night, I dreamed it again. Now she was a snowy egret flying with a flock of gulls and a few ravens. They flew far and wide across the countryside, often diving toward the ground, only to regain the sky and fly to another spot. Dark clouds gathered overhead. Lightning started to flash. The birds continued their search, I don’t know for what. The clouds billowed and the wind roared, but the bird flew on, ignoring the storm chasing them across the land. Then I woke.

She was in danger. I had to find her.

[The_Tauren13]

Sorry, but because I havent had a chance to get on during the last 30 hours, we are behind schedule.

Here is a screenshot of the map as seen by the eyes of god.

[The Panther]

The Kingdom of Man, Turn 3

I was royally pissed.

Hmm… I kind of like that word royally. It makes me feel special.

But enough of that. One thing about being the Queen of Man is that people instantly respond to your every command. I might actually get used to this! So…

“GET RALPH IN HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!”

I even managed to keep a stern face until AFTER my handsome young attendant ran off to obey me!

It did not take him long. Of course, I started on Ralph the instant he arrived inside my huge field tent in the mountains of Gryphon Spires.
“Uncle Ralph”, I said, using my iciest voice. “You told me they would bow before me. You said that my dominion already controlled this land. You even said your preaching is paying dividends inside all the borders of our so-called friendly neighbors. SO WHY ARE THERE 28 CORPSES ON THIS BATTLEFIELD?”

That darn man. He is always so very glib. He knows the proper words in any situation. I was therefore totally unable to faze him in the slightest. “Twenty eight, huh? That many…” he replied evenly.
“Yes, I personally counted them. Furthermore one of my own loyal spearmen is dead and three axemen are over in the medical tent being treated for injuries. Two of them have even lost an eye!”

Ralph paused for just a tiny moment before continuing, “Well, my dear niece,” he said lightly, “I did not expect to find the local Lord with such a large army. I suppose he took affront when I asked him to contribute gold to the rise of the Age of Man in your honor.”
“Asked, smasked, you slippery man you. I am sure it was more like you ordered him to pay up or else.”
“Perhaps, my dear, perhaps I did. You could be right.”
“I AM right.”
“Yes, my queen, your word is gospel.”
I stared at him in silence, letting him squirm under my glare.

But he was not squirming at all! In fact, he seemed highly amused. Darn that man! Why did my father have to die while Uncle Ralph continued to live?

I sighed deeply and said, “Well, uncle, I do admit I am very happy that I came along with you. That flying shard spell taught to me by the Royal Library was most effective indeed. I did not know I could do such things.” The memory of stones being conjured out of my hands and landing on the heads of the enemy was still fresh in my mind.

Ralph eventually replied, “Oh, I knew you could do many things, Selena. I have always known that you inherited much of the gypsy ways of my mother, your grandam. You have far more magic ability than your fair share, my young enchantress. Of that I am totally certain.”
“As do you, my dear uncle. What was that spell you kept casting to keep our axemen from running away when they engaged the enemy? Can you teach me that?”
Uncle Ralph answered, “I call it the ‘Sermon of Courage’. But I think you are not holy enough to try it as yet. I think you are better off attempting some other spells more suited to your style.”
“Like?”
“Well, I have heard of a splendid spell called ‘Quickness’. We will try to discover how it is done and teach it to you.”
“What would this new spell do for me?”
“It makes you move at twice the speed of most mortals.”
“Could I cast my spells faster?”
“Yes, twice as fast!”
“I see. Do it then.”
“Yes, my Queen. I hear and obey.”
And with that, Uncle Ralph turned and left my royal field tent without even a goodbye.

Darn that man!

[PashaDawg]

My recollection is that yarns are due every Monday. Right? I hope so!! Now, let me see where I left my muse.

[djo]

It's not exactly a school assignment, but that was the vague guideline. However, we never put a firm deadline on it, and there was some discussion about awarding the pearls no matter when the yarns came in (an idea I agree with strongly).

I say, get 'em done when you get 'em done, and I hope people will worry about fun and quality before what the calendar says. I'm a slow writer, and I need to rewrite a lot, so I expect I will lag at some point in the future myself.

[PashaDawg]

So, you won't send Dusty after me if I am late? [img]/threads/images/Graemlins/Hammer.gif[/img] [img]/threads/images/Graemlins/Hammer.gif[/img] [img]/threads/images/Graemlins/Target.gif[/img] [img]/threads/images/Graemlins/PointRight.gif[/img] [img]/threads/images/Graemlins/PointRight.gif[/img] [img]/threads/images/Graemlins/icon44.gif[/img]

[Sedna]

996 A.P.P.M
To his Lord, the Archbishop of Polgrave,

Dominus Vobiscum. I trust the new year finds you well, and that the recent murder in your househould has not proved too great a burden. I understand that the attacker was caught, and as a personal favor to you I will see that she is tried as a witch and barred from paradise.

The Three of Three will not be happy at the next conclave. AFTIAL has declared that, in honor of Her arrival, the period of peace for Carrofactum should be extended to two months. The Three Above believe AFTIAL's arrival to be a sign that we are supposed to establish God's Kingdom on earth by military conquest, so they will be frustrated by this period of waiting and prayer.

Yet I believe we see eye-to-eye on this matter: AFTIAL comes to cleanse not the exterior world, but to renew the LORD's church from within. She comes to purge the last vestiges of death-worship from our lands, to drive the devil-worshipers and druids out of the Church, and to restore doctrinal purity. Unfortunately, our view will not carry the Church, despite my close ties to AFTIAL. The Three Between are also enamored of conquest, and so we will have war with the neighboring barons to bring them more closely in line with the church, but let us pledge never to lose sight of this true goal:

For nothing that comes from without a man can defile him.
It enters him and leaves him, and does not change him.
Yet as each man dies, so death waits within each of us.
And this is the corruption of man."

Cum flammae et fidei et gladiis,
Father Muszinger

* * * * * * * * *

On the first day or Carrofactum I rose early and wandered the twisted halls of the library in search of The Map of Jerovia, reputed to be "Thee most trvest and accvrate portrayle of the lands hereabovts, with propre notes to gvide the faithfvl pilgrim". I was skeptical, and rightly so, for the tattered shard of map I found hidden within a tome contained precious little information not commonly known throughout the kingdom. I was on my way out when I saw her, sitting by herself on the floor, quietly turning the pages of a ancient volume. The dawn sun had just crept high enough to pour in through the nearest window, and it sparkled off the dust in the air, providing her with a halo. She was dressed all in purest white, and I for a moment I could hear chanting from the choir below.

Since then I have seen her every morning. I admit that I seek out the library now, in the hopes of seeing her. I have not yet worked up the nerve to speak to her and ask how a woman gets access to the inmost library in the House of Just Fires. Her choice of books is decidedly esoteric. After she departs for morningsong I have gone to her place of study and easily located the books she has been readings as the ones without a fine layer of dust. Many a time she has been reading a work in one of the Lost Tongues, but I cannot imagine what she hopes to gain therein. But, ah, my heart beats fast every morning when I catch a glimpse of her, my goddess of the morning (forgive, oh LORD, your servant for this small blasphemy).

* * * * * * * * *

I hate priests with a passion above all else. If there is a god anywhere I hope there is an eternal lake for fire for these vermin to swim in. After three weeks the food stops; the cell changes; torture begins. For hours they ply me with fire and blade and ask me to recant my allegiance to She Who Loves Not The Light. From what I can understand through the pain and the smell of my own smoldering flesh I am accused of having sold my soul to acquire the skill and strength to become an assassin, despite the handicaps of the female body and mind. I will not give them the confession they want which is further proof of my guilt. They cut the sun from my skin, condemn my soul in stern, solemn voices that betray none of the joy they took in my trial.

The crowd is in a frenzy at my burning. No longer a member of the church, I am an animal to be sported with. The wood is stacked, and lit. The heat begins to curl my hairs and itch my skin. Then the heavens open and the rain comes down. Lightning strikes amongst the blood-thirsty vulture-peasants. The smoke and steam overpower me.

I am in my mother's arms, on the verge of sleep as she sings to me. I am awake, and seeing the very living face of light. She tells me I am safe now, that I should be at peace. The evil men who did this to me will face justice, not just in the world to come but in the here and now, and I am to be the instrument for this justice. She will guide and protect me as I walk the dangerous road of my life. When I can no longer walk, she will help me crawl. When I can no longer crawl, she will carry me home.

[quantum_mechani]

djo said:
It's not exactly a school assignment, but that was the vague guideline. However, we never put a firm deadline on it, and there was some discussion about awarding the pearls no matter when the yarns came in (an idea I agree with strongly).

I say, get 'em done when you get 'em done, and I hope people will worry about fun and quality before what the calendar says. I'm a slow writer, and I need to rewrite a lot, so I expect I will lag at some point in the future myself.

That's good, as I will probably not be adding onto my yarn for about a month, but I anticipate filling in all the missed ones.

[PashaDawg]

Here is T'ien Ch'i's yarn for turn 3.



Late Spring in the Year of Good Fortune’s Coming

The cherry trees are in full celebration.
The white pines dance in the breeze.

I, X’ing Gao, take it upon myself to provide a written record of the tremendous events that are unfolding in our lands. Chi Chi Tzu, the Venerable Sage, foretold in his masterpiece, the Mou Mou Ching, of the Coming of Good Fortune, and it appears that all is happening as he foresaw.

I humbly offer myself as the perfect choice to write such a record, for I am the scribe of a country lord of T’ien Ch’i. I have withstood the rigorous training by our wise calligraphy masters, and my brush and ink has been blessed by Heaven. I am not boasting. I cannot. Indeed, the rigors inflicted upon me by the Masters has changed me ontologically. Any ink I use... any brush I touch... through me is blessed by Heaven... and the blessings worked through my skills are such that I am absolutely incapable of exaggeration or even writing falsehoods. (Now, I will admit this “blessing” is not always the most convenient of benefits. Once I was asked to write a poem praising the beauty of my former lord’s wife. Alas! To my distress and the demise of my then employed position, I could only write about the beauty of her shadow, the charm of her silence, and the elegance of her absence.)

So it should be that I am now the honored scribe of a young, impoverished country lord by the name of Zhaung Li Lou. His ancestors were great warlords, but the family’s holdings have been greatly diminished through eternal squabbles in T’ien Ch’i’s courts. So far as I can tell, he will treat me respectfully, and he wishes to do well by all those within his influence. But, he has been my lord for only 6 days. It was his acrimonious father, Zhaung Cow Jo, whom I served for the past two years, but this leads well to present events.

In the Mou Mou Ching (The Way of the Way), the venerable sage Chi Chi Tzu wrote that when the People follow the Way, Heaven will bless them, Fortune will walk the land, and the Warlords will unite. Well, reports had been coming to our village since early Spring that fortunate events were popping up in the Great City with impressive regularity. Common people found gold coins in their pockets after doing the laundry! Long lost pets suddenly found their way home! Even the street astrologers were popular because they read nothing but happy predictions.

Then suddenly She appeared out of the sky... the Goddess. Taller than the Temple of Heaven with an unnerving mixture of beauty and ferocity only found in the divine. She stood in the Park of the Eternal Ancestors by the Pool of Celestial Reflection and declared to His Majesty, the Highest Lord of T’ien Ch’i, “I bring you BLESSINGS and GOOD FORTUNE. YOU shall FOLLOW me. It is the will of HEAVEN that T’ien Ch’i shall rule the world THROUGH ME!” Then She stomped her foot and thereby shook the ground so insistently that everyone in the park fell to their knees, including His Majesty, the Highest Lord! Well... what else does one say to that but “Ok”?

Next She persuaded to His Majesty to call all the warlords to the Great City. And so it was, except for my master’s father, who saw this as an opportunity to wage war against his neighbors while they were away. My master pleaded with his father to stop bringing disgrace on the family. He would have none of it. Zhaung Cow Jo rampaged across the countryside, burning fields and taking booty. His son cried up to Heaven every night for two months wondering how such disaster could befall his family!

Ah... but Heaven was listening, and good fortune struck our little village right where it counts... or maybe I should write that good fortune struck Zhaung Cow Jo right were it counts! One evening while my master’s father was eating his dinner in his chariot, a mischievous breeze took it upon itself to waft an innocent silk worm into the ear of Zhaung Cow Jo’s horse. The horse squealed in surprise and leapt back right as my master’s father was taking his last bite of rice. He fell forward and somehow managed to choke on one chopstick while the other stabbed him in the greatest source of his pride. It happened exactly like that. I was there and cannot write a lie.

And so it was. With his father dead, my master became the lord of our village and swiftly made plans to leave for the Great City. We have been riding for two days. My Lord expects to reach the City by noon tomorrow. There is word that war has already begun.

May Heaven bless my master! May he find his way through the Way.

Humbly and truthfully,

X’ing Gao,
Honored Scribe of Lord Zhaung Li Lou