Unti Family/Lina/Explorer
-Picking up the tattered scrolls you flip casually through the reports of 'Dwilight' when one set catches your eyes.-
Emperor,
Here in is one of the earliest accounts of 'Dwilight', though it lacks scope I believe you will find it of intrest.
Your humble servant,
Omar
Contents
General Exploration
Her horse kicking up dust along the trail Lina glances around the countryside with a critical eye. As fun as the feasting with the amazons of the Retreat had been and the hospitality of Everguard, it had balanced out with the theocrats of Morek. Since life seemed to be alternating between good and bad for her, she was in no hurry to be surprised by the next group of strange locals.
The place seemed to be mostly scattered nomads and farmers however, so it was possible she might have no more trouble then she'd had during that Moses peninsula detour. Well accept the strange fish worshipers at the coast, drowned god or no she wasn't going swimming with lead weights...
Smiling faintly she removes her hat to toss her hair. The adventure had been fun that much was certain, ancient temples explored, strange ruins picked over, meeting new and exciting people, sometimes to run away from while carrying a great deal of gold. She could see why some heroes enjoyed the brave frontiers where nobles and peasants dare not tread. She also saw why there weren't too many of them living after their first adventure.
Not for the first time she wonders if she should map out the uncharted lands, but she shakes her head; it would just encourage the land grab to continue. The colonists had already pushed out the locals along the eastern sea board and it was only a matter of time before all the natives were driven to the sea or worse. This way it would take the nations longer to stake out each square plot of land, giving these people a few more months to live and laugh before the sun set for them.
Thinking of the nations her thoughts turn to the kingdom she'd left behind, but with a sad shrug she casts it away. That was a dance she had watched and taken part in a hundred times, and it was old to her. Let them have their games, and glittering courts of light and power, she would take the adventure.
Spying the small town of Paisly flying the Mandia flag in the distance she nods, maybe she'd send a letter to her friends, inviting them to join her.
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
Nightmarch
Entry I
By the threads of fate... I had thought I was approaching a settlement of significance from the increase in agriculture along the way, but never did I imagine this.....
The city before me is familiar and yet so alien, this place, this monument to the kings and emperors that rule here in, is almost beyond comprehension; it is as though the builders were lost in a maze of stone. The first thing I see is the towering ziggaurats, dwarfing those I had found earlier by far. The light glitters off the monolithic structures tells me it is no mere stone that dazzles my eyes, but what exactly I cannot say. Around the strange temple-like city there stands a wall, a sheer cliff of dressed stone, obsidian inlayer and intricately carved. The statues that flank the open gates, of jade or azurite I cannot say, the smooth stone is more intricately carved then even the stone dogs of Oligarch. For a wall such as this it is impossible to think, but there is no gate, no door to shut, so assured are the people of this place that they need not fear outsiders.... I cannot see the buildings it dwarfs, but the smoke curling in the air speaks to me of some habitation. Tomorrow I will approach the city gates and see what greeting I will be given.
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
Entry II
The temple city has proven to be more wondrous then I imagined. Once past the sentinel statues I discovered wide streets of impossibly smooth stone lined on either side with squat, but eerily beautiful buildings. Riding along the causeway with care, the echo of my horse ringing through the air, I kept my ears sharp for signs of trouble. A horse was not the most friendly way to greet the new people, but I had seen enough trouble on my tour of the inner sea not to trust a fast horse below me.
I wandered the city for hours, the many streets were strangly empty until I began to wonder if the city was nothing but a ruin left behind from the last Age like so many wonderous things I had discovered. Eventually I arrive at a large plaza, a market perhaps, though far more grandiose then anything I've ever seen for use by the common folk, and folk I did find. Their gaze's were suspicious but they did not run nor hurl weapons so I greeted them and explained that I was an explorer come to see the wonders of their city in peace.
In response a small older man with sharpen teeth and painted face, approached. I will not even begin to guess as to the purposes. He asked me to leave, but having come so far and seen so much I was loathed to comply, and so asked for some time to rest and gather food for the long road back. His response was strange...
"Stay if you must, but in the end you might not be able to do as you wish...."
Assuming he means trouble I have taken to resting lightly, my long years in the shadows would help well with this, but still I must wonder.....
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
Entry III
Light though I have rested even I barely awoke in time. Only my sympathy with the mountain warned me of the trembling ground. Something moves in this city of gold and stone, something big. The people are all gone, the fires out. I see in the distance a light from the main temple-like building. The sun is rising soon and though normally that would mean safety, I have done my best work in the night. Collecting my things I will see what this rumble is....
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
Entry IV
Rumbling leads to rulers it seems, or at least, their herald. I spoke, and use the term loosly, with one who calls themselves Oska. No last name or house was listed so possibly these people don't concirn themselves with such, or maybe they are loathed to tell an outsider. Either way I have been given the freedom to wander the city and observe provided I don't break anything, convert anyone or steal something. Well get caught doing those things anyway. Still it appears the rulers of this place are threatened by outsiders and change whoever they are. I shall continue my rest and then return to the trading plaza and see what else I can learn from the people before I take a closer look at the ziggurauts.
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
Entry V
I met another explorer today, Brandon Peasant of Lord Lorganson's expedition. Who this Lorganson is and what they're doing dispatching people to the far corners of the world I can hardly guess. The boy seemed excitable and actually raised a blade against me, it was an amusing turn of events to be sure. Still he had some courage so I answered his questions, "Now, who are you? Where is everyone? And what the hell is going on here?" sadly he didn't quite understand the answers..... (transcribed in the margin: "I am the Shadow Who Walks, given the hour the trade plaza, and life plain and simple") I offered to introduce the boy to the elders and help him integrate into the local enviroment without too much bleeding, but he decided to make his own way and I've not seen him since. The city is large and sparsly populated so who can say where he might be? His tread of destiny is not yet clipped however, that is certain.
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
Entry VI
After weeks of exploration and interaction with the natives I've learned many things. They apparently serve the Great Masters, the best translation I can find, ensuring all life continues through their dedicated service. Though some would call them a superstitious people, they seem eerily familiar in many ways. Every nation has it's genius, or spirit, to champion, and will guard it fiercely. Though some have a more refined base value then others, but I digress. Once I understood the reverence the people place on the Great Masters many aspects of their culture could be properly understood.
The face paint is ritualistic, denoting one's status, and devotion to the Great Masters. It is said that by these markings do the Great Masters come to know each servant, the odd runic inscriptions in fact being their language. Across the forehead each man or woman beyond the age of eight has inscribed in ink via tattoo a symbol relating to their chosen profession, the number of times the symbol repeats indicating their level of ability with seven seeming to be the highest and one the lowest. Along the cheek bones are the clan and house markings of each individual. Women receive their markings at an early age, from five to seven, while men only upon successfully surviving to their twentieth birthday, where they are paired to a mate and come to live in her house, and clan. I say survive because the men are given grueling tasks to preform by their traditions, which often result in their deaths at a young age. Thus women seem to be of unusually high value among these peoples, being the ones who carry on the line, and inherit property. At first the people of this place, having never seen a horse, assumed it was my mate since it carried all my things and me. Later assurances that it was merely a very large pig were met with skepticism but eventually accepted. The names of each individual are inscribed across the heart, or left breast in the case of the women, in the same runic language. The people of this place rarely display their heart runes, claiming that the Great Masters and closest companions alone should know it. Considering the problems my full name can bring me if it falls into the wrong hands it isn't difficult to understand their reluctance, though it is telling of their understanding of the higher sciences. This brings us neatly to the nature of the runic script. Not matching any presently used language, I have noticed such a script before along some of the most ancient of monuments from the Age of Magic. Sadly though the language is readily used by the people here, they don't in fact know it, each symbol is transcribed without understanding of what it represents. This raises questions in the nature of Heart Runes, but all efforts to learn of them are met with stiff opposition, even more so then their efforts to keep the children from me.
Language and the markings aside, the manually pointed teeth are the next most obvious feature of these people. It has been explained to me that the filing of teeth with quartz rock is considered both a way to honour the Great Masters and a point of beauty. Only the front most teeth, those visible in a smile, and possessing a limited surface area are treated in this manner, and those who achieve the finest points on the most teeth are considered to be both favored and beautiful. I cannot even begin to speculate on the discomfort of the procedure however it seems likely that the various herbs and strong drink that are part of the ritual might help to dull the pain. Amusingly enough, despite the sharpened teeth, meat is a rare food source and thus most of the diet consists of grains and produce.
Tools and equipment consist of primarily stone and timber, however the devices rarely function in the methods expected of their construction, and there is a great deal of circumstantial evidence that suggests the natives possess some talent for magic. If this is the case they do not seem aware that they do, abilities that would be throughly explored by a scholar are merely accepted as part of the world resulting in strange array of abilities. In a similar vein the entire city is build almost completely of stone quarried from one of the two mountains near by, the white stone from what is called the "Dragon's Roost" range to the north east, while the black rock which comes from the "Volcano Nightscree" to the west. Both types of stone are intricately carved by using only the ultra rare bronze tools traded from the easterners for food. The carvings are both alien and beautiful, covering a wide range of creatures and objects found in every day, and mythological life. Interestingly no building of the common folk may stand above two stories tall, by decree of the yet unseen rulers of this place. They seem to possess excellent abilities at weaving and their pottery is beyond amazing, the things they make from clay would make any artisan back home weep in frustration. Full life sized statues of clay, so realistic they appear as any person on the street, are made by mere apprentices with two vases on their brow, while master potters bearing seven vases, have displayed amazing constructs that defy explanation. Oddly enough the people here use gold as coinage, which has allowed me to use my collected wealth from the long travels to pay for food and drink. Despite their strict religious beliefs they are not adverse to trading and have displayed great tolerance to my differences. Since I do not posses sharpened teeth nor face runes I have taken to wearing a mask I requested the elder weaver make for me. Though hot in the summer sun, it has met with approval from the others, though they have the courtesy to refrain from speaking on the matter, I have had an easier time gaining entry to their social activities.
Story telling and simple games that mimic important life skills are common, ranging from javelin and bow practice to wrestling and debates. Women and elder men spend a great deal of their time playing a more strategic game, to which the rules, or name, I have yet to learn despite being invited to play many times. I think my hosts find no end of amusement as one such as I end up defeated so quickly by women a fraction my age, but again they refrain from mentioning such in my presence.
The desire to keep the children from me is perplexing, especially since I gave an oath on the subject, however the younglings have been surprisingly agreeable on the matter and there have been no problems, though I swear they were poking around at my small quarters once. It is possible that they fear my actions confusing their young and thus putting them injeprody of displeasing the Great Masters, or that they worry the young hearts will tell me things they feel I should not know.
As already mentioned there have been a few aspects of myself and my equipment that have cause puzzlement and confusion. The horse being one, while my lack of markings and pointed teeth being another. Beyond these two I've had to be careful about displaying my iron and steel tools, similarly my morning obligations for the Paths have raised considerable questions among the younger women who have taken it as their job to direct me in proper behavior. I have convinced them that the iron is merely dirty bronze, though the quicker among them are not fooled, and taken to completing my obligations in private, but rumors abound about my manners and dress. Even a few have expressed cuiosity about my faded scars after one rather daring older woman dared to join me in the public bath. From the best I can guess, they speculate that the web-like scar tissue that extends from my head to toe along the one side of my body is in fact my heart rune and that my name is so long and complex it covers nearly all of me. The aforementioned mask has proven to be of great use, and as a small joke, I have had the tailor inscribe a series of seven anvils across the forehead, denoting my ability as a blacksmith. Truly it is a telling thing when your mastery means nothing to so many.
Though there is much more to learn I feel I must explore beyond the squat stone homes of the native peoples and cast my gaze to the towering ziggaurats and their occupants, the priests, and rulers of this place. Tomorrow evening I will begin with a careful study of the smallest pyramid and in a few days I will attempt to scale its steps and look to the interior. I am in no hurry, rushing the matter will only cause trouble and the last thing I need now is trouble.
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
Entry VII
It appears the thread of destiny once again pulls me another direction. The deserted ziggaurat complex was interesting in it's own right, but I can hardly be bothered to describe mere architecture after what I found below.
As I descended deeper into the structure the air began to grow heavy with stale heat, the dull throb of an unrelenting burn. All too soon I was sweating not unlike the trek deep into the bowls of the Chaos Temple complex, and though it caused me pause at the memory of the dungeons of Fontan, I pressed on. Eventually the twisting passages that I chose to follow, for reasons I know not why, ended in a compact chamber. It was there in that I saw the first people of my journey into the depths. Five women stood in a half circle, their backs to me, which I quickly exploited to hide among the cluttered ceiling, chanting a strange name in time 'Vates'. As I studied their position and actions in puzzlement there was a blinding flash of light, like the sparking of a forge when you thrust the iron deeply within, my eyes stung from the glow, but I was able to observe what came next.
From the shimmering disk of flame that had illuminated the dark room tumbled a man to lie on the floor and gasp for air as though drowning, or so it appeared. He did indeed seem human, and with not a stitch of clothing on him I felt fairly confident to comment on his gender, and aspects of his form. I could see the muscles of his back, and arms, ripple as he twitched and clawed at the onyx stone, with sufficient success to put great rents in it. He was clearly tall and lean, and I could see not a wisp of hair anywhere upon him. His gargled cries were jarring, and the faint shine of his skin from the few torches and the glowing tear did not speak of sweat. Eventually the thrashing subsided and he rose to his feet, chest still heaving, his eyes, a mirror of his entrance, gazing around the assembly before he opened his mouth to speak; and though the entire situation was a already subtly wrong and captivating, that was by far the worst part. A mouth far too large with teeth like daggers, hissed out a slow drawl punctuated by gasps that made one shiver.
"It is good... to breath... again... How... long?"
From among the Zuma present came the response, and though I was entranced by what I saw they seemed to not bat an eye, "Great Master, we do not know. The old calendar is long gone."
The man seemed irritated by the reply, and I swear seemed ready to gnash his teeth, "Speak slowly.... I must..... translate myself."
"Our apologies Great Master."
"Why..have you six called.. me?"
At this point I prepared my weapons for a battle should it be needed, assuming this man had spotted me by the same way Oska had in the past, for I was sure they were one and the same, Great Masters of the Zuma. As strange as this man was, I had faced down more monstrosities and survived then any really should, and was ready to do so again should my position have been discovered. The Zuma however reassured the man in an almost motherly way that he was still weary from his return, offering him vestments to cloth himself, food and drink. He waved away the final two intent on his question to which they answered, though he seemed to accept their reasoning without question.
"The Great Builders have grown worried. The traders hear tales of strangers coming across the great water, they live near and wander; some have come here to the city and the Great Builders know not what to do. They who make and shape the earth and crops, who help with the work, they do not know what is to be done with these outlanders, but they know the Great Heralds do."
Nodding the man stood to his full height, towering over the Zuma to look over them, "These outlanders, are they like you?"
"Yes Great Herald."
Bowing his head the man was silent for a long time, until the flickering glow suddenly vanished, plunging the room into what seemed total darkness despite the torches. Pulling tight the robe he finally responded, "There is much that must be done, and much I must learn again, but first let us find that food and drink...."
Soon enough they left, and so did I, a little wiser for some of the whys and what's of the Zuma and with many thousand questions running through my mind. The trek out took many times the length of the one in, making sure I was not seen, but eventually I returned to my quarters to write this.
What does it mean? What will happen? I cannot even begin to guess, but I fear the answer may come to me far sooner then I'd wish.
From the journal of Lina Unti, Explorer of Dwilight
