MP Game - Yarnspinners

[Sedna]

R'lyeh, Turn 43

Hmmm, it is as I feared. Man-ish forces make no distinction between the forces of Xlikloth, which are ravaging the land, and myself, who is only trying to find and kill that upstart punk. I wandered across the beautiful old library by the riverside, and was attempting to communicate with the local garrison the only way I know how (by sucking out their brains) when a group of Illithids showed up. The humans got all uppity and tried to stick metal into things, and before you knew it many of the best volumes in the library were blood splattered.

Anywho, the commander of the R'lyeh force, Ahu'yhuala, is loyal to me. Or, at least hates Xlikloth, which is the same thing. He was upset that he had to leave his sand castle under the sea to come fight. We found a magic lab next to the library, strewn with odd human magical equipment (apparently they think magic is done with paper, quills, lanterns, and a surprising number of human skulls). The skulls make me hungry. But I digress. Together, Ahu and I used the lab to make contact with Cthugul back home. He was very glad to hear from me, since he had feared the worst since my disappearance. The old boy is getting slow in his old age though, and is thinking about retiring to spend more time with the spawn, and letting one of the other priests venture into the void.

Argh! Off topic again. This is what happens when I get hungry; those militia were barely more than a snack.

Cthugul says that most of the Elder Starspawn remain loyal to me, but are afraid of Xlikloth's power. If I can just remove the head (literally) of this rebellion, the rest will fall in line. And Cthugul knew that the traitor was directing the assault on the castle at Starko, only a few leagues south of here! But the journey there will not be easy. Great armies of Man are roving along the coast, and will most unfairly try to kill me. One force in particular, is rumored to have dozens of fire mages, and some nasty fiery snakes. And me without my fire-proof night-clothes! This will not do, so I have ordered Cthugul to ship me something fire-proof right away so that I can get close enough to these mages to explain the subtle distinction between Xlikloth (the lunatic terrorizing their lands), and my godly self (Lord of Nightmares, He Who Lies Dreaming, Great Elder God Who Will Destroy All Their Minds And The Very Foundations Of The World).

So, until that magic gear comes in, I'll spend some time here, perusing some of the Man-ish books. Oh, "How to cook", that looks good.

[Sedna]

R'lyeh, Turn 47

Well, gosh, if that wasn't the oddest thing. I've eaten a lot of things in my time, some of them strange enough they would blow your mind, but I've never tasted Death before. He was a nice enough chap. Kind of ticklish and brackish.

Tricked out with a new shiny magic toy or two, I was close enough to Xlikloth to smell him. Then the memory becomes somewhat disjointed: I know I ran into some two-bit general with a horde of undead under his command. Undead indeed, what is it the empire of R'lyeh coming to? Although, I guess I should drop that bias now. Blah blah blah, chitty-chat, and then suddenly there were Manish mages everywhere and giant flaming snakes. They hit me with spells and froze me in place, and I stood helpless as they cut my divine flesh. I tasted my whole life before my tentacle: cup of brains, cup of brains, almost got shagged, cup of brains...

And then I was dead, and then the prayers of my faithless slaves pulled me back to the mortal coil. I am relieved to discover I lost only a few months. Being dead gives one a certain intaste into the universe. And while I wouldn't say there is immediate cause for panic, let's just say that I won't be investing in any bonds with a time to maturity of more than about a year. I see that old Nothy-boy is no longer verber of nouns, and Vanheim is looking a little green behind the ole gill-slits.

So now I'm in a difficult position. Caelum, to the south, has grown extremely strong, and Man, despite having mostly triumphed over Vanheim, has been sorely hurt by Machaka and the cursed rebels. I would love to turn my army south, but to do that I would have to reclaim it from the upstart. And, much as I hate to admit it, I'm not really in any shape to go anywhere. I mean, it's only a chest wound. The limp? I've had worse. Look, your whole arm's off! No it isn't. But that pesky Never Healing Wound. It's not so much the physical pain, but the mental trauma of such an injury. Never Healing. It sounds so final, doesn't it?

Anyhow, it's been a long time since I've been this close to the Void. And Cthugul's here and is rather chatty, and really, I'm just not feeling that well-disposed toward Man to want to go teleporting all the way across the world to reign in some trouble-maker who believes all surface dwellers are part of some vast air-breathing conspiracy. I'll just sit here and watch my enemies kill each other for a while. In fact, maybe I'll take up knitting. I hear you can do some interesting and amazing things with alpaca.

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 44 ----

I have a newfound respect for Andromache's ability to use these flying boots. It is remarkably difficult to keep your balance when your feet can be blown in wildly different directions by even the slightest breeze. If you then add in mountains or looming tall trees... I must have set down six times already, with varying amounts of control, to regain my balance (and recover from the slightly sick feeling I get from traveling at such great heights), when I realized that the clearing I was resting in looked familiar.

"Come to crush my arrugula, deathbringer?" I heard a voice say. I would almost say its tone was friendly chiding, but I remembered well the odd, hostile way in which we had parted. Still, there was no denying that the old enchantress seemed to be almost smiling as she spoke.

"Well, there's no helping who you are, I guess," the old woman continued. "But perhaps your Navnit was not so far wrong when she spoke well of you. Have some warm fragrant herbal beverage with me."

As much as I had always felt ill at ease in her presence, I was not about to refuse the offer of anything warm. I could barely feel my nose and fingers after many hours' flight, and I gratefully gulped down the mug she placed in front of me, and the warm biscuits and generous amounts of butter. Perhaps I had been mistaken in taking a dislike to this odd woman who never left her grove of trees.

We spoke for a while of the war with Mictlan, and she broke into a real, unmistakeable smile when I described the fall of Sethra and Huehueteotl, and the rebuilding of Mictlan. But mostly she just shook her head when I spoke of all the fighting, and seemed particularly grim on hearing of Amshula's death and the growing factions among the mystics. "You are walking on the edge of a knife, Pandokos," she said. "There is some sort of turmoil hanging over your future, wherever you are. You should leave now, so that it does not perhaps overtake you here, where we have already suffered far too long." But this time, on ordering me to leave, she also prepared a basket of biscuits (and butter) for me to take with. Some people are just naturally brusque, I guess.

She eyed me a little bemusedly as I fumbled with the straps on my boots, then again as I immediately fell over when I tried to hover a few feet off the ground. I have found that my quick reflexes are sometimes a hindrance in keeping my balance while flying, causing me to overreact and tumble more than I should. But finally, I righted myself.

"Be careful," said the old woman. "The land is cleaner now than it has ever been, but there are still some pockets of evil intentions, especially where you are going. Perhaps you are one of the rare deathbringers who does not seek only death and glory at all cost; but I suspect many of the other sort will be drawn to news of your conquests and undo the peace that you have helped bring."

As I was flying off, she said, "Search carefully among the friends you think you know, the roads you've walked a hundred times. Perhaps you will find something that surprises you; and I hope not for the worst."

---

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 45 ----


All that flying was for nothing. The Firbolgs led the hypaspists and a forest of vinoghers out of here just a few days ago. They are now somewhere in the swamp between here and Oast Hills, but the thick cover of slimy leaves which hangs like a sullen blanket over that part of the world will probably defeat any attempts to find them from the air.

Meanwhile, I have another crazy person to deal with. You gotta respect a guy who thinks he's Odysseus, especially if he is manifestly sane. But when some local mystic decides it's not good enough to worship at the temple of Athena, no, she has to be Athena, that's plain crazy and a transparent power grab amongst locals who actually do believe that gods become people and fruitbats and orangutans and large chunks of... Still, I should talk to her at some point and make sure she's happy-insane, and not dangerous-insane.

I received the most odd report from our southernmost scout this morning. The lands south of here are all aboil with this new war between Man and the squid-beings. It doesn't look like things are going well for Man. In the wastes of Ryazan, where it is common for men to eat the dead bodies of other men in times of extreme hunger, one brave waif has stood up to the cruel policies of their Manish overlords and led a revolt, demanding some degree of autonomy, freedom of religion, and lots of brains (which are a delicacy amongst these barbarians). Our scout was on hand to witness this individual lead his motly band against the local militia. And though there were equal numbers on both sides, and the rebels were armed only with their bare hands, Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains (for that his the closest I can reproduce the local dialect in Greek) led his men to victory with almost no loses. A fine tactician obviously. I shall ask our scout to keep a close eye on further developments.

It is interesting to note that while I have been gone, Ulde, Wlde, and Vlde have only grown in stature among the citizens of the Sinking Lands (although they are not all here at the same time, and it is exceedingly difficult to discern which one you are talking to). Remember that these were the same women engaged in the hateful blood sacrifices of the loathed kingdom, whose defeat is even now being celebrated; yet they meet with many smiles and small gifts whenever they walk around town. Perhaps it has something to do with their successful handling of the seige during the war, though since I have learned the precise number of troops they faced my only wonder has been why it took them so long. There is a dark cynical voice that says they meant it to, so that the people would be grateful and rally around them; but that leads to other dark thoughts about what they intend to do with these loyal citizens and the troops they keep amassing. I do not want to see this province become another police-state like the one I just brought down.

---

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 46 ----

In the Odyssey, Homer tells us how Pallas Athena, Guard of the Armies of Zeus, Hope of Soldiers, Thirdborn of the Gods, takes the form of a small girl to lead Odysseus into the palace of Nauskiaa, and greets him home in Ithaca disguised as a shepherd boy. And Odysseus did not recognize her, but she revealed herself to him:

But come, let us talk no more of this, for you and I both know
sharp practice, since you are far the best of all mortal
men for counsel and stories, and I among all the divinities
am famous for wit and sharpness; and yet you never recognized
Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, the one who is always
standing beside you and guarding you in every endeavor.

I do not claim to be as tricky as the real Odysseus (and I left the fake one up north, so I cannot ask his advice now), but wouldn't it be the ultimate disguise for a goddess to come to earth proclaiming herself openly, but taking on so unlikely a guise that none would seriously believe it were her?

Heh. I have become a mystic myself in my old age. Still, for a moment, as Athena led me through the rough-hewn gateways of a temple more ancient than the hills themselves, and drew down the starlight into the perfect shimmering pearls, I almost believed that I saw the halls of Olympus in the this local woman's beautiful grey eyes.

From the depths of the temple, she drew forth a fine staff of ivory which entwined a huge sapphire.

"This is the Winter Bringer, O wanderer. An ill-winter is near at hand, and the end of all things gathers: storm clouds across a wine-dark sea. Use this well and bravely, and perhaps in the deepening gloom your song will slice like a ray of light."

I took the staff (which is truly beautiful, but otherwise apparently useless) and my wits, and walked back into the city to meet with the triplets and a Golakana shaman (can you believe they're letting people-of-Golana become magicians now?) and iron out a few laws for this place before heading off on those cursed boots again in the morn.

---

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 47 ----

Usually, when you leave a muddy little village that has been your home for many sad, sorry years, and set out on the road, having many great adventures, surviving one dangerous peril after another, only to return victorious months or years later, the place seems a bit small and unimportant. The village elders seem a little less mysterious and powerful, the local priests less authoritative, your own former fears and anxieties less real after all the dangers you have faced and survived.

Usually. While I have been gone, Oast Hills has transformed itself from a village into the capital of an empire. Everywhere I look tall, new buildings have been erected, among them no less than eight gaudy shrines to a certain blue-limbed pretender god (whom I have yet to encounter). The village elders now wear dark black robes and are followed everwhere by an honor guard wearing a strange rune on their shoulders. When I asked Anemoreia, a young priestess who was once a slave alongside Andromache, what the rune was supposed to mean, she said, "That was your idea, don't you recall? We are all one people now, the people of Arcoscephale; and that is our sign." But somehow when I devised my ideas of giving a downtrodden conquered people some sense of hope, this was not what I envisioned.

There does seem to be less mud, though. The streets have recently been paved with broad stones, just as I had often proposed to a complete lack of interest. Special attention has been paid to the roads near the mystics' quarters and the soldiers' barracks, which I appreciate. There are only ten new recruits stationed here, but they have been drilling constantly, and are much too keen to hear stories of the Mictlan wars. Eh, over-eager lads are nothing new, I suppose... but their enthusiasm for battle is a bit discomforting.

One thing that has not changed: it still took weeks for me to arrange a talk with the village elders. I would have thought they would be interested in the state of their empire to the east -- we have, after all, nearly tripled the size of our holdings since I left -- but they seemed almost bored by my accounts of turning the blood-suckers capital into a prosperous city. Instead, they wanted to know everything about how the mystics had fought in battle: what incantations they had used, and to what effect. They were especially curious about the vinoghers. But my concerns about the triplets and their power over the eastern swamps held no interest for them, nor did they care much for my accounts of the battles I had heard were raging between our neighbors and my opinion that we should tread carefully lest we get drawn in. "We trust you will remember that your contract does not include informing us of how we may act in affairs of foreign diplomacy," was how one of them put it.

I grew more uneasy when I was ushered out of their presence after only a quarter of an hour, only to see Vlde enter, and be greeted warmly. Nirmai, who arrived before I, told me that she has been in constant meetings with them for the past week. About what, I can only speculate, and my thoughts are all bad.

I was pleased when my desire to take the recruits on an extended training exercise to the small village to the west was approved by the elders. This city is starting to give me the creeps, and I welcome the chance to return to the quiet little town where Thymbre found a library and built a small place for studious types to engage in quiet refelection. I could use some time for reflection myself.

---

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 48 ----

And when Pandokos of the quick feet and the cold shivery stick at last glimpsed the city toward which he was traveling, he became much confused, thinking he had accidentally turned back toward Oast Hills. In his infinite wisdom he turned to me, "The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet, Vol 1", to look at my array of useful and informative maps; but he seemed to expect more than a blank sheet with an X and the words "you are here!!" written on it, and in his snootiness slammed me shut before he could read any of the helpful advice written on the next pages... [passage ends abruptly]"

From The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet

This is what comes, I thought, of letting people into libraries. The next thing you know someone's built a huge fortress to house all the would-be scholars pouring in from the hinterlands, and they're charging ridiculous amounts for lodging and stables. I wonder if Thymbre knew what would happen to this quiet village when she tarried here an extra month to prepare the scholar's quarters, before joining us on her last campaign... I suspect she might just find the huge crowds and the constant magical bickering (and occasional flying sparks or sharp stones) to be amusing.

At least I was able to find the firbolg. Had I been looking for a lesser man, it would have been difficult, but Todd stands out in a crowd. He has the face of a young boy, and the same sheepish manner of speech, though it is whispered that he is millennia old. Certainly he is taller than any two men. But for all his affability, I was disturbed by his news. The first thing he told me, for instance, was that we were at war. "At war?" I said, naively placing stock in my nominal position as supreme commander of the Oast Hil... sorry, Arcoscephale forces.

"Yes, Rod marched out several months ago, and has been having a jolly good time on the high plains," said Todd seriously. "Only I can't go until Orokestes gets back." His eyes brightened. "Did you hear there was a huge battle, and everyone died, except the mystics? Now Orokestes will have to come back, and I can march out with him, and we can retake our ancestral home."

I realized, with dismay, that the news that several divisions of troops -- including many Greek veterans -- had been sent into battle without my knowledge, did not surprise me. Weren't we at peace with Vanheim? I thought. Didn't they trade away Thymbre's grave so that we would not have to fight this war?. Too late for such thoughts now.

Todd was eager to march forth immediately, for death and glory, and my stupid young recruits beamed eagerly at his words. But I insisted on speaking with the runner from the battle; and from his words I realized that we needed a plan. We faced even worse things than nightmares now, and this time I would not fail my troops. I ordered everyone to stay within the castle, and for news to be sent that any soldier or mystic afield must return, so that we might better plan how to face this foe.

But I found it impossible to think within the confines of the city walls, so close to terrible memories long since buried. At night I would dream that Athena was calling to me, telling me to meet her in the mountains. After a week of this, with no sign of friend or foe on the horizon, I decided that if going up into that mountains would get me a good night's sleep, it was worth it, goddess or no goddess. So accompanied by a young mystic who refused to let me go alone (I think he was itching for a chance to search for mystical sites, but dared not disobey my orders to stay within the castle), I marched out to the near hills. I sit there now, two nights later, watching the dark mountains I marched into with my love, unable to leave. It is not yet time, I know, though I cannot say what it is I am waiting for.

---

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 49 ----

On the eighth night, just as a thin sliver of moon began to rise, Pandokos heard a voice behind him. "You," he said. "I thought you were in a swamp down south." There was a voice like silver and thunderclaps, and she said, "But I am the goddess of battle strategery, and you are in need of a plan." And she spoke many wise words with him, which although they were not wise enough to have been in the Book in the first place, were nonetheless wise enough to be included now...

From The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet

"Do not tarry," Athena said to me. "This world is breaking beneath the fires of war. In less than a year you must have completed my work for you here - you must have forged these people together and trained an army strong enough to beat back the forces of chaos. Ride out into the mountains as soon as you can. Meet the invaders head on, and in my name you will triumph".

I'm not so used to being addressed by goddesses. I feel that my speech lacks the proper iambic beat which the gods seem to expect of their confidants in all the old poems. But military strategy I can deal with.

"That's foolish. The walls of this fort are strong. If we wander into the passes which they know so much better than I, we'll just lose again. I've lost a battle in those mountains, Orokestes has lost a battle in those mountains... no, it's better to wait here."

Athena smiled. "But this time you won't be going alone." A wizened old man appeared at her side. His hair and clothes spoke of far too long in the wild, and his smell of far too long since he had had to stand among other people. "This is my priest, Karl. He has tended the grave of Thymbre in these mountains for the past three years, spreading my name among the animals and plants here, in preparation for this day. He will guide you through the hills, and his friends will protect you from ambush. Now, give him your weapons."

Thinking that she must mean that pretty (but useless) Winter Bringer the old woman in scene twenty-four had given me, I turned it over to him.

"And the other one."

Muttering that it was typical nonsense for a god to expect a man to fight empty-handed, I reluctantly turned over my lance also (the men will be disappointed, they regard it as a token of good luck).

"Okay, now what?" But Athena was gone. Without a word, Karl wandered off into the woods, and I followed him back to the city.

At the gates I at last met the fabled Orokestes. "Balachandra sent this stuff for you, from the forge out east," he said by way of introduction. In the package was a pair of beautiful blue boots with amber buckles, an amulet with amber stones, and a belt with a single huge piece of amber (Blachandra must have gotten a good bulk deal on amber). "Oh, and a strange woman left this for you."

It was a sword such as I have never see. Massive enough to require two hands, it crackled and hissed as it flew through the air, and sparks ran down its surface. It is a thing of deadly beauty. I suppose being chosen as a pawn in the games of the gods isn't always so bad after all.

---

[Sedna]

R'lyeh, Turn 48

Dear Diary,

Our revolutionary struggle continues apace. We are advancing inexorably on all fronts, even those in which our advance is in a backwards direction. Our forces triumphed so completely in Heaven's Hold that it was considered unwise to spread ourselves too thin to pursue the stragglers of the evil Man army, so we left the battle field in victory and left their few survivors holding it, convinced they had triumphed. The fools! Do they not know that we have the historical imperative on our side? Do they not recognize that theirs is a decadent bourgeois society doomed to fall? Why then must they throw their lives away on such a pointless struggle? If they would only surrender, I would personally see to it that the class traitors were executed as humanely as possible, and that the ordinary soldiers were sent to forced labor camps close to their homes, so their families, if they survived the purges, could visit them and provide them with food and blankets and other things they should be grateful to be permitted. I am merciful, unlike certain tentacled oppressors who shall remain nameless. For that is the will of

-Xlikloth

[Sedna]

R'lyeh, Turn 49

It is so dry here, but I have found a way to keep moist. The fish in this place are very stupid and hug the bottom when they swim, so it is easy to chase them down and replenish myself from their waters. I do not understand why they don't fly away when I dart among them, but then there is much in this strange tenuous dry sea that is a mystery to my. Why do the fish here think that sharp sticks will do aught but pass through me? Why do they hurl small fires at me when these will easily be quenched upon my skin? And why do they make choking gasping sounds when they are suddenly enveloped in life-sustaining water?

If not for the assurances of my sister, who has long voyaged above the waves, I would have laughed at the emissary from the strange sucking tentacled beings who fancy they have conquered the oceans; but Limne insisted on hearing her out, and showed me how to use the strange devices they provided to leave the waters. C'thulu is no great friend of ours, but neither is he our foe: and I do not like to see any creature of the deep hurt by surface dwellers as much as he. Besides, the strange fish with their green cloth banners are quite easy to trample underfoot, and it is marvelous to see how they've adapted to the terrible absence of cool comforting water all around. Too long have we queens of the sea ignored this dry place; it is good that I am here now, to ensure the safety of all the little creatures who live in the deep.

Thalassa, Lady of the Undines