LINESII- Into the Darkness- Part II

From Sanx
To Kelios
Allow us to refrain from overflowing the afterlife. 3 turn NAP?

So Iggy, any ideas on the update?

I'll inform everyone when I'm able to work on it.

To: Sanx
From: Kelios

The rebirth of the people is to be celebrated, not scorned, but we will sign your NAP anyway.

The lambent, fiery glow of a bed of hot coals cast away darkness in every corner of the great tent, and threw into sharp relief the features of a hundred of the most honored Merhai–the Great Council. Wizened and Youthful by equal measures, they all appraised two men that had stepped in front of them, one young, straight-backed and defiant, one old, leaning heavily on a cane and with scarred, tortured deep brown eyes.

“Welcome, weary travelers. You may be seated; though we have no seats here, for the earth is all that we need.” The speaker was a middling aged woman with a firm, clear voice, her brown hair tied briskly back into a utilitarian ponytail.

“We thank you,” murmured the younger of the two men. He helped his friend to the floor before seating himself before the semi-circle.

“Why is it that you have come to our chamber, before the Great Council in one of our rare meetings?” asked the stern woman.

“I am Falhir, man of the Merhai and erstwhile soldier, my gracious Halle, Councilmember of the Tarehel Clan. My companion is Ulan, of the Lengel peoples who live south of our Republic.”

“And why have you come?” she repeated.

“To tell you of great crimes, of crimson tales that make the heart shriek, of warriors in whose veins surely flow icewater, for they have no compassion nor goodness in them. We have come to tell you of a great nation that has been trod into dust, of an ally that we have abandoned. We have come to tell you of the Lengels, whose chapter is all but written in the long book of history, but for their friends, if they should come,” he replied.

“I put it forth to the Great Council,” called a voice, young and fair from near the rear of the tent, a maiden Councilmember whose face was all but obscured in the back, “To hear these witnesses, to judge the atrocities that they claim to bear news of.”

The hundred assented with no debate.

“Tell your story, then, and let us hear the news of the south, for it is not often that we get visitors.”

Falhir stood, and whispered something to his friend, who seemed to agree. Then Falhir turned to the Council, and began to speak.

“It is half a century passed that the Gorinese Empire acquired a border to our south. Their war on the Lengels came swifter than an arrow, and the once great empire was subdued by surprise and treachery. We were, as we are, a small nation, blessed only in that we were so small as to be easily overlooked by the greater powers of the world. When the Lengels were conquered so quickly as to make us struck dumb, it dawned upon us that this power was beyond our reckoning. We abandoned our ally, and let him fall to the red armies of Gorin.”

“I remember this time,” a Councilmember said, her voice hoarse and high. “It was not a decision we liked to make, the Council, but we made it, for there was no hope in battle, and we do not sacrifice the sons of the Merhai in vain.”

Falhir bowed his head, and then continued on.

“We have remained in our northern homes, and they in their southern, and it would seem peace would prevail. However, I do not know if this is true; in fact, I very much doubt it is. Allow my friend, Ulan, to tell his tale, for it is a long one, and full of misery.”

Another murmur of acquiescence.

Falhir hoisted his friend to his feet; Ulan took his can, propped himself up with it, and took a long look around the tent before beginning. In that moment, the Council saw that he was a Lengel, an odd color of skin, burnt by the wind and the sun, bleak and hard as the steppe.

“I greet you, women of the Merhai,” he inclined his head at length at the Council, “and men,” he added, bowing to the assembled Merhai who looked onto the proceedings. “I am Ulan, of the Clan Turul, and here is my tale:

“My people have dwelt upon the steppes since time immemorial. My clan, those of Turul, who bear the great falcon upon our breasts, have our lands in the steppe, and they are good–well watered, and favored by the eyes of the gods. We rarely see fire, nor plague, nor famine; only war is that which we bear as a burden, and we are well used to war, so that is not so much a burden as it might seem.

“We hunted, we gathered fruits, we led our horses from well to well in the vast land that we call our home. And we were glad of life, glad of our ways, though harsh they might seem to outsiders.”

“It was then that we sought to impose order upon the world–we did not bear the nations of the south any ill will–no more than a king who enforces his law abhors his subjects. Thus, we conquered: and we were staggered, for the conquest was far easier than we might have expected. There was little resistance, for it was as if we fought grass, which bent to our will.

“But just as grass is not destroyed by a surface flame, so our enemies were not defeated; the empire grew old, and began to stagger from many bleeding wounds. So my clan, those of the Turul, joined the ones who believed we were taking the wrong path. The Turul were among the True Lengels–your allies, who helped restore order to turmoil. The Merhai aided us then, and together, we fought our mighty war against the Iron Face, with ten thousand warriors, and the glorious warhorns sounding all around.

“Little did our peoples intertwine past that point; and so, as you have heard, we were conquered by the Gorinese, in our moment of weakness. I was a Turul, but my clan lives free on the steppe. We were fleet, so the Gorinese could not catch us; we were fierce, so when they caught us, they could not kill us all. Thus does the Great Falcon watch over me and my people.

“But nothing could have prepared us for the horrors we witnessed there.

“This new Gorinese regime was not what we had expected. The people to the south were “civilized”, or so we had heard: they were pale and fleshy, but they held human life in high regard. We did not witness this last.

“I have heard it said by some scholars of old that the Gorinese were once regarded as a truly good nation, one that pursued its goals through high-headed, calm and level procedures. If so, then this side was curiously absent in their treatment of us.

“Children were torn away from their mothers. Men were hunted like dogs. The old were left to die on the steppe, feasted upon by wolf and crow, while the young were sold into slavery, never to be seen again. I know this, for I have seen it. The screams of dying children are burned into my ears forever, and the sights which I saw, too numerous and horrible to describe, are forever linked to me.

“We are conquerors, not animals. We are no less human than any others, but Gorin disregards this. They find those that are undesirable to be no men at all, and they treat them thus: they make gifts of those who were people, who were men and women and children with lives. They take them from their mother’s breast, and shackle their hands and feet, selling them like common cattle!

“The Gorinese are not just; they are horrific conquerors with brutal methods, who make a mockery of honorable war. This is why I come to bid you aid us: aid us in our fight against tyrants, in our fight against horror and evil. I come to hold an ally to their oath. This is why I come to your Great Council, Halle of the Tarahel.”

There was a silence, and then a timid voice came, not of the Council, not of the men, but from the Merhai who had gathered in the tent to watch the spectacle.

“My lords? My ladies?”

“There are no lords and ladies in this room,” said Halle loftily. “But we shall hear you all the same.”

“May I speak to the Council?”

“All may speak to the Council, for we are an open people, and we do not disdain any who should come to bear knowledge. Do you bear that gift?”

“I do.” With trepidation, the slow footsteps came, and awkwardly, a young woman walked. Her strained sway said that her feet had been in pain for a long time, though they were starting to be relieved; her clothes were rags, though her soles were well shod. Her face had a haunted look, as though she had only emerged from months of mourning to see a glimmer of sunshine, but could not cast away that which had come before.

“I... Hello. I mean–a fair...” she paused, and continued, “a fair day be upon you. I am... suh–sorry for intruding upon the deliberations of this body, and to interrupt the much needed words of these men, but I feel that there has not been enough said about these Gorinese–that you might somehow walk away with a not so terrible ideal of them, and I could not let that happen.

“I am Ameri Nuru, and I am of Ikki, but my tale is long, and I have seen many realms.

“My family was one of free artisans in Dazjyki, and, as you know, that land fell to the Gammoreans too quickly–our people were divided. My brother died by the dagger of a common thug who made off with our money in the chaos; my father was killed in the fall of the city. I barely escaped with my sister and mother, and we made our way to the Merhai, for this was the land which we had heard was free of the troubles of the south.

“Alas, it was not to be, for our small party was surprised by marauding Gammorean horsemen, and I saw my mother and sister die that day, pierced by the arrows of the Gammoreans. I hid, and then escaped, but, to my woe, I did not choose the right turn, and I found myself over the border of the Gorinese, rather than the Merhai.

“I did not think it such a setback at the time, but it was, for the first village I came to was a Lengel one. Or, it had been a Lengel one.

“The Gorinese were rampaging around the village, fierce and bloodthirsty. I do not know what had come over them, for despite the fact that I had come from the East into the village, and not out of the village, they took me for a Lengel, and clapped me in irons.

“I... They were not kind... Not by any stretch of that word...” She turned and coughed, concealing some hint of great pain that only the men, standing near as they were, could see. Falhir felt the urge to go to her, to comfort her, but resisted.

“I was sold, like a common beast. I tried to tell them over and over that I was not a Lengel, that I was an Ikkian. But they did not care. They laughed at me, beat me savagely. I do not know what demon god they worship, but it is one without pity or mercy, for I was at their mercy, and they gave none.

“They sold me to another man, Hatisi, a tall black man... Nkondi, I think... He was no more kind than they were. I was with him for half a year, and I tried to tell him, but he would not listen... I thought somehow I could... I don’t know... charm him... but my charms fell on deaf ears...

“I escaped. I found a friend, a Lengel smith, last of his village, who struck off my grim steel collar. I still have it, to remind me of the old life.

“He died, trying to hold off those who pursued me: I escaped on a Lengel steed, swift as the wind, but my journey here was perilous nonetheless. There was worse that I suffered, but there is no time to detail it now. I appear before you now, in rags that my master gave me to wear. And I still bear the mark of the Gorinese.”

She took a steel collar from her tattered cloak, and threw it upon the floor before the delegates.

“I am Ameri Nuru, and I tell you now, this is who you speak of. Brutal men who have defied all laws of the Earth. Ugly souls who any true peoples on this planet would fight; fight with all their strength. I am Ameri Nuru; and take my words to heart.”

She left her collar upon the ground before the delegates, and walked back to the crowd without another word.

A silence ensued, furious as a thunderstorm.

“My people,” Falhir said at long last. “This is what awaits you. Do we need to see the crimson writing upon our own walls? It is clear now.

“The Gorinese have not stopped. Their wars of conquest have continued ever onward. They have taken Gerber, and then the Lengels, in a brutal war, not just of conquest, but of extermination. They hold to no civil code, they are no honorable warriors. They threaten destruction to all who dare oppose them.

“And I bid you, look. They are even now rousing to crush the last throes of the Lengels, and then, their armies will be in their north, upon the very southern cusp of our nation. We are in their path, and their path is one of ruin. Do we wait?”

The old woman who had spoken before rose in answer. “You have moved many a heart in this room, Falhir, Ulan of Turul, and Ameri Nuru of Ikki, not least mine own. What you say has much truth to it, but there is one thing that is plain for all to see, even eyes so clouded and old as mine:

“The Gorinese may well be the worst nation that has walked Tellus since the Eldranians of old. The Gorinese may well be harboring in them the desire and the means to destroy all people, including ours. The Gorinese may be as a hurricane, and they may continue northward. But the fact remains.

“We do not have enough men. Alone, we of the Merhai have barely five thousand men, and a few dozen ramids that stand ready to fight. We may raise as many as five thousand more, in my estimation, of raw levies; and perhaps some dozens more of ramids. However, this is not enough.

“Regardless of our courage, or valor, Gorin has over ten thousand standing firm, and the capacity to raise tens of thousands more in conscripts. We would be fighting at least two-to-one against us, and as many as ten-to-one. They have ramids as well, and generals no less competent than our own. We would have the virtue of surprise, but that, by itself is not enough to win a war.

“We cannot fight this war, and though it grieves me to say, the Merhai alone cannot hold back this ocean. Alone, we Merhai cannot fight.”

With a shout, some rider tried to get into the Council, shouting at the guard; a commotion ensued, but at length, the man stopped trying to enter, and bid the guard carry his message. As the Great Council looked on, the guard walked slowly towards the fore of the room, his steps swallowed dully by the ground.

“If it please the Council, this... rider... is an envoy. He says he brings news from the south... and word of an Ally.”


Part Two

Great story, NK.

Good job NK......I'm watching you so don't try anything tricky!

Right, ok then.

“This new Gorinese regime was not what we had expected. The people to the south were “civilized”, or so we had heard: they were pale and fleshy, but they held human life in high regard. We did not witness this last.

Click to expand...

Actually, the Gorinese are black.

And I only have 30 pages of work remaining! 130 down, 30 to go.

(about 2/3 of the pages were readings)

The Khemri resemble Egyptians right? The Valins are like Greeks/Romans no? The People of Guangfei are Chinese like right???

The whole Gorinese being black is like

EDIT: It's the whole irony thing. Like how White Europeans treated the Black Africans with now the Black Gorinese treating the well... non-black everyone else.

The Khemri resemble Egyptians right? The Valins are like Greeks/Romans no? The People of Guangfei are Chinese like right???

Click to expand...

Da. Oui. Yes.

I think I might join, but after the update.

alex994 said:

The Khemri resemble Egyptians right? The Valins are like Greeks/Romans no? The People of Guangfei are Chinese like right???

The whole Gorinese being black is like

EDIT: It's the whole irony thing. Like how White Europeans treated the Black Africans with now the Black Gorinese treating the well... non-black everyone else.

Click to expand...

haza! someone realized!

*sigh* i <3 irony


And the Gorinese people are black, the blackest of black and pride themselves on it NK, i thought everyone knew gorin was a black nation? well, now you do

Hey, are there still any Aneyans? Nothing is more pale than them

The Journal of Basu Votrotski: The Beginning of the End​

Many have told stories of us. The riders of death. The Red Lady’s consorts. The mighty hammer of Blue Face. Many have whispered our name in fear. In terror. Some say that our name should not even be said aloud, for fear that we would come to their door steps and slaughter their family. These rumors. These stories. Perhaps they are not exaggerated. Perhaps what they say is true. They. Who once conquered our land, who once slaughtered our allies. They. They are not our people. They are Lengel. And we are Bajo-Oni.

I grew up in the heart of the Empire. The great city of Gorin itself. My father was a merchant of high repute. My mother, the wife of a rich land owner and a great priestess of Masra. I had 4 siblings, 2 brothers and 2 sisters. We lived well. We lived more than well.

Our dwelling was a three story house. Grand in every word. With a full staff to tend to our every need. We had two chefs, who could cook almost any meal, and even knew some Lengel dishes. We had a stablemaster, our own blacksmith. We had everything. We were pure blood Gorin, we were everything. My life back then, it was good. I had not a care in the world. I played forever, with my brothers and sisters. We would cause our father much grief with our antics. But he was never angry with us. He loved us, and we loved him.

My mother was like any other mother. She was caring, kind, but would not hesitate to yank our ears if we did anything bad. She was the head priestess in Gorin city and hence we were devout followers of our Lord Dula and avatar the Lord Kaiser. Every other day we would go to the temple to give thanks to Dula for guiding the Lord Kaiser’s hand to bring his people to glory. I was small, I did not know better.

I was the youngest of my siblings and hence pampered beyond belief. My father took a special interest in me. I was taught to ride, and to fight at the age of 4. I understand now he was preparing me for what was to come.

I remember when I was 6, we acquired Lengel slaves. They were so strange. Their skin was different from mine, their face, was different from mine. They were different. I would watch them as they worked. They never met my eyes. It frustrated me that they would not look at me. I asked my father why they would not look at me. I asked if it was because they thought I was ugly. He laughed and ruffled my hair. He said they knew their place. I still do not understand.

I remember when one I met one of the Lengel children. His name was Ulbane. He was a little smaller than me, but fast and tough. We became friends. Perhaps more than that. I played with him often, since by the time I was 7 my other siblings were busy with grown up things. We would run around the streets of the city together, laughing and giggling. No one bothered us. They assumed that Ulbane was my playmate. He was not. He was my friend. My father never approved of our friendship, but he did not say anything. He would simply frown when he saw us playing together.

I remember I once went into his home. Well, hut rather, or hovel. It was a simply a shelter made of mud where his mother and father lived. It was located in the far regions of our land. They were very polite to me and never met my eyes. They gave me their best food, which was not good at all, but I liked it because I ate with Ulbane. He told me what the dishes were called in his native tongue. I was never able to pronounce the words properly and Ulbane laughed at me when I tried. I still try. I cannot do it.

At 8 I taught Ulbane how to fight with a sword. At night I would sneak out of the house sometimes and get a horse to teach Ulbane how to ride. He rode well. He seemed, at home on that saddle and he would look down at me from it and smile.

One day I asked my father if he would buy Ulbane a horse. He frowned and said no. I begged him for a week. He finally gave in and gave Ulbane his own horse. From then on we rode together always. When my trainer would come he would frown and spit when he saw Ulbane. He never talked to him even though father had told him to train Ulbane as well. He addressed all his lessons to me but Ulbane was always listening. He soaked in everything and practed all the time. He was always a little better than me but he never gloated. He said “Don’t worry Basu, you will get better.”

At 9 my father boat a small field near the city where we could practice alone. Also so we could practice without anyone seeing us. I always loved to see Ulbane ride. He rode as if he was one with the horse. He said it was in his blood. I did not believe him.

The day of my 10th birthday 2 big men came to our door. When my father saw who they were his almost fell. I watched, as my father talked with the two men. They were huge, dressed in black armor with all sorts of weapons. They towered over my father. I did not hear what they said but when they were done my father came over to me and hugged me. I think he cried that day. I do not know if they were tears of joy or sadness. Perhaps both. For a week the men stayed in our house. They watched me without relent. Their expression was always blank, and had a strange hardness to it. Sometimes they whispered to themselves while me and Ulbane rode together. I was wary of them, and Ulbane said they were trouble. At the end of that week, my life ended. It was in the morning that I was awoken by my father. He said that it was time for me to leave. That I was to go with the 2 men. I ran. I ran down the stairs. I ran out of the house. I got my horse and I rode as fast as I could. I went to the only place I could go to be alone. The field where Ulbane and I practiced. I sat by my favorite tree for about an hour before I heard Ublane coming behind me. He knew I would be here. He always knew.

“I am leaving” I said without turning around. My tears were dry on my cheek, my eyes red

“I know” he said calmly.

“I do not want to go with those men”

“I know”

“We could run away Ulbane, me and you, we could ride away from here”

“No”

“Why not!” I asked furiously

“You have your duty”

“But I do not want to leave you”

“I know”

There was a silence between us for a long time. The only sound with the snorts of Ulbane’s horse and its hooves on the ground. I heard him slide of his horse, his boots smacking the ground as he landed. The crunching of leaves coming closer. He sat by me, but did not look at me. He stared out along the field where we trained.

“You must do your duty Basu” he said quietly

“But I do not...”

“We are children no more, ok?” he finally looked at me. He smiled that smile. That wonderful smile.

“I will not forget you Ul, I won’t” I said, my voice a little hoarse.

“I know, I will not forget you either”

I stared at him. We were so different. He was Lengel, I was Gorin. How could we possibly be friends. He put his arm around me and hugged me. My insides clenched. Why, why did I have to leave. I didn’t want to go with those men.

“I should have listened to you”

“Hmm?”

“You said those men were trouble, I should have listened to you”

“I know”

“You always do” he laughed and shrugged. He seemed different. He seemed, to have grown up in the span of one night. I searched his eyes. His odd green eyes. He was Lengel. I was Gorin. And I kissed him. He did not pull back, he did not lean in. When I pulled away he stared at me and then smiled.

We rode back together, to my house. My father was waiting, so were the two men. The men were on horses. Great black steads that dwarfed mine. I rode over to them, and their blank faces.

“You will not need any of your belongings, you will come with us as you are” One of them men said. I did not reply. One of them grunted and turned his horse before clicking his tongue, sending the horse into a slow trot. I followed.

I looked back. I shouldn’t have. But I did. Ulbane was watching me leave.

“I will miss you” I yelled

“I know” he yelled back

We turned the corner and headed to the city’s exit. No one spoke. We only rode. Rode to my rebirth. As a Bajo-Oni.

ooc comments? crits? moose?

I loved it, Kentharu!

And yours was very cool too, NK.

erez87 said:

Hey, are there still any Aneyans? Nothing is more pale than them

Click to expand...

There are a few living in Gorin, and a few living in the Citadel. Rumour persists of a few Gerbers hiding in the Keran Mountains even.

Kentharu said:

ooc comments? crits? moose?

Click to expand...

Nice story. He'll be quite torn in the future.

"Pale and fleshy" is not exclusive to Caucasians.

North King said:

"Pale and fleshy" is not exclusive to Caucasians.

Click to expand...

How can a black guy be pale?

emu said:

How can a black guy be pale?

Click to expand...

Many ways, but in this particular case, it's a reference to fatness; fat, on this inside of the skin, is white. Cut them open, and they'll spill out pale. Of course, skin could be pale relative to other blacks, etc.

In any case, it matters little; the story stands as it is.