~Darkening~
Weep, Mother.
There is a time in every life when you are forced to look back upon your life and attempt to examine it under an educated light. To scrutinize each and every moment that you can remember, and to evaluate every admirable moment and every baleful concern that you had the fortune (or misfortune) of experiencing. For me, this is that time. Without hesitation, I must expose every intricate detail of my life for your eyes, and I must do so in plain sight. These are the terms of the proposal that was presented so long ago, and I have decided to comply with the terms. Therefore, I embarked upon this literary quest to dispense all knowledge that I have gathered upon these people and their customs.
[size=+2]Agh Mher[/size]
“Come into our confidence, foreigner.”
The drums echoed with a thick, constant beat that reverberated against the wooden walls. The structure was darkened, light banished from the domain in an ingenious fashion; under the leadership of one of their Ytaui, the men had gathered thick amounts of woolen sheets and hand hung them over the entrance. Furthermore, the i]Ytaui[/i] had demanded that the ceremony was to take place on the verge of sunset. And as such, the men had gathered as the sun began to dip below the horizon, and at their insistence I followed along behind into the room. As I have mentioned before, it was pitch-dark in the room, and so my vision was naturally limited; despite this I managed to make out the individual shapes of the men that had preceded me into the room gathered in a circle around the central circle of the room. Contrarily to the amount of light held within the structure, there was a small orange-red fire burning away in the center of the circle, and it was the fire that gave the shadows to the men.
Standing in the farthest position of the circle, the Ytaui stood his ground among the men despite lacking several key elements. He was a foot shorter than his contemporaries, his head barely reaching the shoulders of the other men. He stood a little wobbly on his position, the cause of this was self-evident, as the man limped on one leg and used a wooden crutch to support his other side; his left leg was missing below the knee. He was covered in a thick set of woolen cloaks, each one progressively heavier and burdensome upon its wearer. His face, left uncovered in the sheltered state of the wooden construction, was covered in numerous scars and a husky, black beard. His voice snapped through the repetitive echo of the drums; causing them to cease in operation. “Come into our confidence, foreigner.” His words, despite their rhythmic flow, lacked the grace of a native tongue; he spoke (to my surprise) in my own native tongue.
I nodded slowly, taking my place standing in the middle of the group with little hesitation. It almost surprised me a little at the ease at which I moved, somehow unconcerned with the symbolic meaning of the group. The Ytaui, paying little head to the apparent lack of interest I paid to his movements. The old man was moving along the outside of the circle, muttering phrases and going through many symbolic motions. He moved his left hand, the right being required to support his weight, in a circle before throwing it into the air, then swinging it back towards his own skull. He rambled on in Hinar; his men taking ease in his soothing repetitions. “We seek solace upon this new night, upon this new ground, upon this new life that enters our confidence. We seek the endurance and knowledge necessary to correctly guide this new life to its proper destination, and to properly divine the correct Eise.” The man finally stopped speaking, brushing into the center of the circle and kneeling in front of the fire.
Without warning, the old man threw his clutch to the ground and threw his head back, mane of graying hair flapping in the night. His head snapped back forward, and his eyes flew open with dramatic flair in the firelight. He grabbed a short oak pole off the ground, and suddenly began to dig into the soft earth that formed the floor of the structure. He dragged the pole through the ground, and formed a very simple line on the ground. He twisted his hand, and dug a second line that joined with the first to form a direct angle. He finished the diagram by twisted his pole in four short slashes, slicing through the dirt with ease.
Satisfied with his work, the old man dropped the short pole to his side and suddenly grabbed a small bag from one of the men standing near him. The bag was cut from a navy blue fabric and was smooth to the touch; it was barely larger than the average fist and was about the same heft. Ignoring my own curious glances, the old man pushed his left hand into the bag and quickly withdrew it. He gently rolled his hand once more, and tossed out several objects onto the diagram he had just finished drawing. Suddenly satisfied with the outcome of his toss, the old man pulled his head up and gave me a generous smile. “The fates favor you, my friend.”
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“You will not speak unless spoken to first. You must always remember this- as a foreigner you must submit to the will of the natives. This is very import, and if you can keep to this you just might stand a chance in the city.” The old man said with a laugh, hobbling along. The dawn had broken since the previous night, and now we were making our way from the outside of the city into its delicate center. In an apparent, deliberate, opposite move of the general cramped quarters of the outside of the city, the inside was well spaced and featured large swaths of land closed off by wooden fences. These estates, no doubt the richest of the rich of the people, were well groomed and properly maintained- a cosmetic effort compared to the degrading outside of the central core. Walking along the dirt road that went into the Anmang Nicll- the old Ytaui that had taken me under his wing- was doing his best to breakdown everything necessary to ensure a proper meeting with the Throsrdyn. “If he leaves the room, you must follow him at a respectable distance- never close in more than three arms length to him. Most importantly, if he is to ever direct a question to you, make sure you answer in respectful terms- always add 'sir'.” he stressed, rolling the word across his tongue.
I nodded absentmindedly, suddenly consumed by a longing for my own home. My thoughts went back to the old brookside village, abruptly lusting for the opportunity to return. Sighing without much effort, I snapped my thoughts back to the current situation. “Of course. There is nothing to be shown to the Throsrdyn but respect and obedience. This is basic knowledge to even the most common fool.” I nodded, watching how Nicll took the response. To my pleasure, the old man took delight in my feeble response. The few minutes that it took us to reach the entrance of the Anmang passed in silence, and without any sort of rite, we passed into the threshold of the Avaimi.
To say the least, the entrance room was far less than I expected. Instead of a gilded palace, the small room was furnished in a wooden decor, and was done lightly. A few small benches had been placed in a square form, and numerous cushions sewn from dull wools. Other than these spare furnishings, the room was exotically barren. Except for the young man that rested upon of the wooden benches. He was young for his position, barely old enough to be considered free, and yet I found it ironic that he held the power over so many. He was attired in the common form of the people, and despite his upbringing, the young man had sheared his hair into a long, thin braid hung behind his head. Despite the sudden interjection of new appearances into his court, the young man stayed reclining upon the bench, staring apathetic against the ceiling. Yet, he suddenly spoke , voice meek in the quiet room. “Nicll, is this the one you spoke of?”
The old man nodded vigorously. “This is the one from the east. He has come to serve you, liege, from the far lands of the Tain. The months he has traveled mean little compared to his delight at the thought from your tutorship.” Nicll rambled on, heaping praise upon praise with no hesitation. Finally, after a few minutes of enduring the praise, the young man sat up and waved a interruption to the old teacher. “I daresay that I know he's pleased to be here. What I'm curious about is many things other than that. For instance, how well he understands our current conversation.” He cut his eyes my way, suddenly bringing silence into the room.
“I understand well, liege. It is a distinct honor to be here.” I answered dutifully, bowing my head as required.
The young man suddenly sprung to his feet, braid bouncing behind his head. “Very well. Follow me.” He commanded, exiting the room.
The Alainti
The Spectrum.
It is, in the very simplest terms, the very nature and fabric of Existence. It is what composes all around us, what builds us up, and what destroys us. The nature of the Spectrum is controversial, as even the most taught Ytaui lacks knowledge of all aspects of the issue. Therefore, we must begin with what is known and understood. By definition, the Alainti- the Spectrum- is the concept of Existence in motion. The Spectrum is a simplified concept in which the two forces of the world ('Runn' and 'Rhidtath') that exist and oppose each other. Through different translations are common for the concepts, the most common renderings of the word “Runn” is “Construction”, defined as the force behind act of creation. On the other hand, 'Rhidtath' is most often translated as “deconstruction” , defined as the force behind the act of destruction. These two forces are often rendered on a simple line chart, called the Eise, which is considered the lowest level that existence can be described with. Below is a very simple Eise, listing the concepts of Runn and Rhidtath, and the meeting grounds of the two: Caghr (the balance.)
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Runn--------------------------Caghr----------------------Rhidtath
Most Ytauzians believe that in order to ascend the mortal realm and reach the Afterworld, they must adhere to the middle ground of the two forces. This means that they will attempt to adhere to a balance of the two forces, attempting to honor the Caghr foremost. However, there are those in the world who do not adhere to the the Caghr, but rather play their hand into one of the two forces. Those who follow the Runn are called Eshyan, and despite being creators, they are often more destructive than their counterparts. This is because they tend to be people who see it their job to 'create' a new world, and in order to do that they must impose their will upon the old world. The followers of the Rhidtath are called the Aghan- unlike the Eshyan, the Aghan are far fewer in numbers, through the Aghans tend to be far more devoted to their cause. The Eshyans and Aghans tend to be the far minority of the populace, as the belief in the Caghr is by far the strongest adherence. The followers of the Caghr are called the Akimens.
In addition to the two forces of existence there are four elements- Col (Warmth), Canl (Lack of warmth), Diam (The Physical), and Scheinaim (the Unphysical). These four elements are considered the makeup of everything in existence, and through the manipulations of the forces, all that exists comes into direct being. The four elements, called the Anlsult, are arranged in a simple chart with the two forces in order to show the composition of the major elements of life. These charts, along with simple tokens, are used to divine the interaction of the Existence. The Eise are among the greatest part of the philosophy Ytauzi, and are among the first things learned by apprentices.
[1]Agh Mher{Ahgh Mhayr}- “One Year”, or “Year One”.
[2]Ytaui{Yah-tai]- a scholar educated in Ytauzi. Translates to 'teacher'.
[3]Hinar{Hin-r}- “Speech”, the name of the Avaimian tongue- technically called Bhe-Hinar, “Our Speech”.
[4]Eise {Ess}- A chart used to divine the forces and elements of existence.
[5]Anmang {Ahn-mang}- The central complex of the Throsrdyn, the ruling figure of the people.
EDIT:
or NPC stats (and Avaimi; sorry Dark ).
Seeing that I just finished that pathetic "story", I hold no qualms.