Author: Luthene, Posted: Sat Jan 9, 2016 12:03 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Seeing herself dead so many times over was jarring to say the least. For a long time, Luthene didn’t say anything, first because there were no words, and then because she didn’t have any sort of solution. The elf suggested that they were dead ends, time’s failed attempts to solve a problem. But in what world? Were those bodies reflected of different possible futures in their present world? Or did they come from some parallel world, where somehow time had also broken, and these same four people ended up in this same place? Luthene found that idea a bit hard to swallow; there were hundreds of bodies in front of her, how could there be so many other worlds were the exact same circumstances lines up so precisely, and all gone wrong? Yet the subtle variations seemed to give credence to that line of thinking. The colour and breed of the horse changed, the man’s hair, their clothing, small changes that didn’t quite match their present.

“Perhaps we’re not supposed to all be together. These two,” Luthene added, nodding at the man and the elf, “are not even from this world, so of course finding a path for you both that merges with that of myself and the boy is going to be difficult.” Luthene glared at the elf when she used that name, but did not comment on it. “Go backwards, yes, but we should also make our way to the clock from different directions. And none of us should choose this direction,” she concluded, gesturing at the bodies in their current path.

The arrival of a living man moving past the dead towards them was unexpected and unnerving. It was hard to see his face due to the shadow cast by his hat, and Luthene wondered, with trepidation, how he had gotten blood on his hands.

Then the eerie stranger was gone.

Then the boy asked her a question.

“I am called Alyson,” she replied. It was truthful, up to a point, and she feared that the boy was looking for another answer, one she could not give. “I’m a mercenary, and I was hired to help see some scholars and their things safely here from Adeluna, a job I took on because I wanted to see the clock for myself. I am from this world, born in a small town within the Kingdom.” She paused. “Why do you ask?”

Author: Century, Posted: Fri Jan 8, 2016 5:21 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Mendean stared up the slope to peer at the man, afraid to step any closer, for fear of what had already happened to his contemporaries. The blood evident on the man's hands also unnerved the young god. Was this man responsible for all these deaths, or was there another reason for the stains?


Aralli had spoken of echoes, but as he observed the many corpses, they seemed more real than echoes to him. But then, he was not as familiar with the nature of time as the elf. She had once been intimate with its vagaries and vicissitudes. Mendean had not had that pleasure. He wanted to move on, but he feared for his life.


Considering the stranger's words, questions formed in his mind like flying ants emerging from the ground on a still summer's day. It was all he could do to form whole sentences as his mind reeled with the implications of what was being said. That there were many iterations of himself in other timelines; he had known that for some time. His recent merging with an alternate version of himself had made that abundantly clear. The other Mendean had known about this for even longer than the one of this world. The knowledge they shared had been a revelation.


But that there were so many versions of him out there? It had always been a notion at the back of his mind, but to be confronted with the truth of it was another matter entirely. His entire world-view was being challenged by this seemingly simple encounter.


And then the man mentioned the end of the world and Mendean knew that it was true. During the crisis he had found himself stuck in the future, where terrifyingly powerful entities known as 'shining ones' fought their battles overhead with little interest in the collateral damage of their immortal conflicts. He had seen the man atop the rise. The man had warned him of impending danger and even guided him to safety, after a fashion. But when Mendean had looked for the stranger, he had vanished.


And now here he was, in the present day, hands dripping in gore. Mendean felt a frisson of familarity. He turned to Luthene and the soldier for encouragement, then called out a question.


“Who are you?”

Author: Him, Posted: Thu Jan 7, 2016 4:12 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Atop the blood-soaked slope, a figure moved, meandering slowly between the topmost bodies. He was tall, wore a long coat and a floppy hat that cast the top half of his face in shade. The collar had been turned up and the coat itself had clearly seen plenty of wear and tear, but it had been lovingly repaired a number of times, as had the hat.

As he stepped gingerly over the dismembered and blackened head of what might have been a Mendean, his hands remained firmly locked behind his back, head down, as if lost in deep contemplation. He seemed oblivious to the latest iteration of the foursome at first, but after Aralli had spoken at length, his head cocked in her direction and he ceased walking.

Still some distance off from the group, the figure had to raise his voice in order to be heard. His voice was low, but carried well enough. “I would advise you to proceed with caution, but you clearly do not require my advice. You can see your failed counterparts well-enough to discern the terrible threat you have faced, and will face” said the man in a voice that was almost without accent. He spoke in Adelunan.

He bowed, deep and low, arms sweeping in an exaggerated flourish, before the dishevelled figured snapped upright in an elastic motion. His hands now hung loosely by his sides, stained with blood. A smile visible from within the shadows.

“I thank you, I thank you all. For your deaths have freed me from certainty, from destiny and from time itself. I am no longer beholden by prophesy, nor by destiny. I am at last, free. Free to make my own decisions, to wander hither and thither. Soon the clock will be finished and I will make my home here.”

He pointed at Mendean. “I will…I have seen you at the end of the world. Do you remember?”

Author: Aralli, Posted: Tue Dec 29, 2015 1:40 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Aralli turned as the man advanced on her, and she crystalised, a hard veneer settling onto her face. For a moment, beyond the exhausted, sweat-stained woman, there was a glimpse of regality. For an instant, there was strength - and then it dissolved into bitterness, a deliberate flatness as her friend spoke, a refusal to rise to any of the emotions he was trying to provoke. The sourness was holding her strong, but she didn't look happy.

"I thought you knew me better than that," she murmured, just for him, as she reached out for the horse.

She heaved herself into the saddle as Mendean dragged them on. The horse skittered under her, confused and halfway to panicking, and all her attention was forced onto staying in the saddle until they found themselves amongst the dead.

She watched the others make their examination, and slithered off her mount. On steady ground again, she could close her eyes and concentrate.

Her hands lifted as if riding some current, fingers twitching as if between the strings of an instrument. She moved between the groups of bodies, frowning faintly as she felt for something around them.

"They're dead ends," she said. "Attempts to find a solution that works, abandoned. Normally, they'd slide beneath the rest, be folded in - but they don't know where to go. There's no one here to smooth it out."

She turned to Mendean. "Time breaks in tiny ways almost constantly. Most of the time, they either heal, or they are … guided back into the weave. At least, that's how it was when I could do these things. There might be some inconsistencies but the overall current is preserved. People notice far less than you think they would.

"Sometimes … sometimes something breaks more than a few strands and they can't go back together right. It would be like holding a hank of your hair, cutting it, and trying to align every hair with the one it was cut from. Only much worse, of course. That solution is impossible, or at least far too difficult to be plausible."

She looked down at another group of the dead. "It's forcing itself into different paths, trying to find one that works enough to heal. A clever god might try to guide that down a particular path. A clever god might screw that up in ways she regrets. Maybe it's a blessing that you don't have anyone trying to do that right now." She kept her eyes on Mendean, avoiding the man who knew her.

"Either it's going to find a path that works and it can heal from, or things are going to splinter until they're irreparable. The clock may act as a guide into more plausible, less strained realities - narratives that more minds can accept. Where we are now … this feels like a dumping ground. I made one myself once, on a much smaller scale. Just a single person, to extend his lifespan. So I suggest …" She pressed her lips together and went hmm, casting a glance back over her shoulder. "Let us go backwards. It's hardly the same as reversing our passage through time, but the mental parallels might be enough to slip us through into a stream where we were able to get where we wanted to go, and put in place Luthene's plan about calling me a scholar."

Author: Mathuin, Posted: Mon Dec 28, 2015 6:07 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Mathuin knew little of magic, a fact of which he was inordinately proud in his own stubborn way, but even he knew enough that when a magical child who rode tendrils of the darkness said it was time to leave, it was time to leave. It seemed as though a wave of nearly black water was rushing toward them, pressing against the magical enclosure the young man had created, threatening to flood over them all. And while he did not know what exactly it was that threated the bubble, Mathuin could piece together that a pressing wave of darkness was likely not the best of things. “Ain’t sure what’s going on out there but I’m with the boy. It doesn’t look good, so let’s shift ourselves, alright?”

Trusting the elf was smart enough to move along with them, Mathuin jogged alongside the horse, relishing the exercise as it helped ease the cramps in his limbs. His sword’s scabbard banged against his thigh as he ran and his eyes kept scanning the edges of the bubble, wary of the encroaching darkness. The boy on his tendrils of darkness was leading the group and as the horse outpaced him, Mathuin found himself as the rearguard, a position he did not care for in the face of the threatening waves behind them. His ignorance of magic was borne of two things, an innate inability to channel even the slightest modicum of magical energy and his mistrust of mages as duplicitous and power-hungry after his own experiences in the War. He did not want anything to do with the sort of people that were capable of thrusting the entire world into a war, believing they knew best how to organize all the peoples. Megalomaniacs to a man, he thought, but he still had a healthy fear for their craft and at that moment, he feared the waves more than near anything he had faced. They were a silent, unstoppable menace and he touched the hilt of his sword for luck as he ran.

The group ahead pulled up short as they reached the edge of the maze and it took him a few seconds to catch up, his breath pounding in his lungs. As he leaned over, hands on his thighs, he noticed the red rivulets running through the sand and snapped back upright, his sword hissing out of its fleece-lined sheath. In front of the boy and the women were a mass of corpses, looking like the sort of carnage that would remain after a particularly vicious battle, but his experienced eye could easily see it was no battle. Instead, it was a macabre parody of their group, two men, two women, beasts of burden in various iterations, all dead in the sand. He cursed quietly and spat to his side as a protection against the evil he saw ahead of him. Mathuin walked alongside the young mage, surveying the bodies with a certain calm, turning some over to see them better, recognizing faces like his own and those of his companions. “Aye, they’re us, after a fashion. But we ain’t dead yet so let’s not start to panic quite yet. Yon elf and I have come through this once already and I can’t imagine I won’t again. So how about the wise among us figure out just what exactly is happening here, yeah?” He scratching his beard with his left hand, his right still holding tight to his sword’s handle.

“If there’s other worlds, which I figure we can accept, there’s other folk like us. So me, I think it’s a good bloody sign for us. We’re alive and they, well, ain’t. Which means we’ve for a better than evens chance of making it through this madness. That clock gets itself righted and we stay alive and we’re living good and proper, I figure.” He shrugged. To him, a survivor of one of the great rifts in time, it made perfect sense. He survived already, coming through to another time and it may serve as a protection from the magic of the clock, as he was already an anomaly in the present world. The same went for Aralli, but Alyson might be in danger. Mathuin sighed and let the tip of his sword rest in the sand. “But I ain’t a scholar or a mage, so the Maker only knows if I am near the mark. Either way, we’ve got to do something, anything. Anything’s better than standing here looking at ourselves dead, waiting to join ‘em.”

Author: Century, Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2015 4:21 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

[OOC: hope you don't mind me moving things forward a little.]

Mendean had been keeping track of the world beyond the blister of his own nexus. Waves of probability crashing against the shores of his own little pocket reality. Functions collapsing as the reality beyond his own stable little bubble began to burst its seams, allowing other times and even other histories to force themselves through. Reality itself was a gossamer-thin net, full of holes. “I hate to rush you all with your little family reunion and your discussions about who owes whom a debt and for what, but we must move. Now.”

He pointed toward the far end of his own intrusion into Revaliir. A wall of dark churning water, seemingly pressing against the bubble. Of course, that was an illusion. There was no actual physical pressure. His was a blister in the world. The only pressure was that of possibilities conflicting. But still, if the oceanic continuum outside managed to establish itself for any specific period of time, they would be unable to navigate their way back to the clock being assembled in another world. The greatest danger lay in becoming lost.

Tendrils burst forth from the earth, lifting the young god and carrying him aloft. “I require no horse” he called back to the others as other tentacles emerged ahead of him. The black forms carrying him passed him forward, sinking back into the ground as they released their burden. In this way, Mendean was able to proceed forwards with great speed. As he moved, so did the bubble. The wall of water followed them. He knew there were a great many other possibilities occurring out there in the broader continuity. And many were collapsing. Falling into each other like trees in a dense forest. The trick was to anticipate and stay ahead of the trees, or leave the woodland entirely.

It did not take long for him to reach the lake's edge. But what he found there, made him stop. The work of clock construction continued, the crowds gathered closest to where the activity was. Hundreds of people, lending a hand in whatever way they could. He looked back to see the ocean becoming transparent behind them. A good sign.

It was the couple of hundred corpses immediately in front of him that gave the deity pause.

Blood still trickled down the sandy slope, smoke trailed from a number of the bodies. But he sensed no life in the immediate vicinity. There was no pattern or structure to the way the bodies had fallen either. No clear delineation of sides. It was as though a mass brawl had occurred, with wave after wave of attacks being repelled…but by whom? It made little sense to the chaos lord as he approached the piles of fresh corpses, fighting back a growing sensation of panic and nausea. He stopped and found he could go no further. Stepping down gingerly from his 'chariot' of black tentacles, it was obvious to the god that a battle had occurred here, very recently.

There were men, women, horses. A number of different races represented. Various forms of riding animal, but the pattern was always the same. Two women, two men, three riding beasts. Over and over again. Variations on the theme, but mostly an elf and three humans. Mendean backed away, not wanting to go any closer. Instead he turned, stony-faced to the first of the group to arrive.

“They're us. All of them. Every last corpse here…you, me, the other two. All dead. We…we didn't make it back.”

Author: Luthene, Posted: Fri Dec 25, 2015 10:06 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The boy had a theory that the stranger was once of Conclave, perhaps her world's version of the same goddess whose death caused Timedeath. Luthene thought it was a little absurd, his belief that only members of Conclave could control time. After all, weren't they trying to repair a clock that might solve the Timedeath problem? The clock wasn't divine by any stretch of the imagination, it wasn't even sentient, so clearly power over time wasn't limited to Conclave.

And yet, the boy was right. The woman said her name was Aralli, once a goddess in her world, with power over time. She was worried that people might associate her with the dead goddess, and she might cease to exist as a result. "But you're not the same woman," Luthene said, looking at the elf. "Anyone who saw her would know that. She was darker than you, Abedi I think. I didn't see her ears, so she may have been an elf, but still nothing like you. She wasn't so afraid, either." As soon as the words were out, Luthene worried that she may have said too much. She spoke of the duel as one who was close enough to see it. There were many people there in Adeluna that day, but far fewer who could see that the goddess went to her death unafraid.

Then the man spoke, and it was clear that he knew Aralli, had fought in the war- or at least his world's version of it- and carried a lot of anger about the whole mess. Again, Luthene was worried she had said too much. Was there a woman like her in his world, who had fought against Conclave, against him? If there was, he didn't hate her the way he did Aralli. But if nothing else, his words confirmed what the stranger claimed.

"I think his word," Luthene said to Aralli, with a nod to the older man, "seems to give credence to your credentials. But he," she added, with a nod to the boy, "seems to think that the solution is at the clock, in agreement with our scholars. So we'll say you're a scholar yourself, from Endapano- that's the Elven kingdom here- and a follower of our Goddess of the Hours, and that is why you are familiar with time in a way others may not be." Luthene took the reigns of the horse, claimed onto its back, and then extended her hand to Aralli. "We'll ride to the clock together and speak to the scholars there. Tell them everything you know, and as soon as a portal back to your world appears, back you go. But that's why it's important you talk now, because one could open at any moment and we'll lose whatever expertise you may have. So, climb up, and we'll go." She paused. "Is there another name you'd rather use?"

Author: Mathuin, Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 9:11 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

"Let's save time and be honest then, yeah?"  Mathuin waited until Aralli had finally spoken, not wanting to have to carry through with the threats that flooded his head.  Flay her skin from her bones while she lived, cut her body a thousand times til she talked, any of that.  Luthene… Alyson he reminded himself, would know that, despite his aptitude for that sort of cruel torment, he hated it to his very core.  It went against the sort of man he was, against the sort of honor that he imposed on himself regardless of his station in society.  

"It weren't that long ago, Ara, and we both know it.  I soldiered for you, after a fashion, in the Valley, and I did what needed to be done.  I killed more folk than I'm proud of, one slippery, half-breed bugger of an elf among them, and I ain't weeping over the lot of them.  Now is time for you to stop your whinging and make something good of all this shite you created.  I ain't expecting a passage back to my corner of the world, but you'd best do your damned part to stop this one from falling into the Abyss, unlike the last damned time."

His voice was heavy with recrimination and he nearly spat in the sand at her feet.  He had not forgiven her for the burden of command in that war, for the souls that weighed his down whenever the campaign was mentioned.  However, now was not the time nor the place to have that conversation.  The world was coming apart at the seams and it was more important to stave off that destruction than to vent his frustration over all the pain she had caused.  "And yes," he said, lowering his voice again for her ear only, "I am him.  I loved your friend, led your army, and carried your blame.  So you owe me a debt.  Pay it and save this world like you refused to save your own."  He had not forgiven her for the carnage of a world torn apart to save her pride and he did not have the fortitude to hide it more than he had.  He looked at the young man and nodded.  "I trust you know me then, young one, and who I was, what I've done.  So you know, I have all the reason in the world to stop this madness and save this world.  Mine, I fear, is bloody well gone."

He took a menacing step toward Aralli and grinned, a feral grin that bared his teeth like an animal scenting his prey.  "Now Badger, you and I have some debts that need paying.  My lads died for you.  They died for your reputation, your pride, and your comfort.  Let's give them some damned peace and make it worth something after all.  Get on my damned horse and stop this madness.  For their sake, for mine, for… for the marriage your war ruined for me, you owe me this debt as a man.  Pay it now and I will forgive the hate I bear for your," he paused and spat in the sand, "man.  If you love him and you ever loved me, do your damned duty now like you never would then."

Author: Aralli, Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 2:25 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The woman seemed surprised by the man's response to her, but let him into her space with no increase in the tension that strummed through her body. When Luthene started berating her, she turned and took it face-on, expression annoyingly bland.

Then Mendean spoke, and she turned to him with a small smile.

"Let's hope the world doesn't implode," she said, extending a hand. "You're right, of course. Aralli Úvelen, once, long ago, Goddess of Time in Dae Luin. I haven't been for many years, though, and it wasn't through our Godslayer War that I fell. I wouldn't be here at all if I could help it, but my best theory at present is that loose threads of time are trying to anchor themselves somehow by clearing up inconsistencies between worlds. As I have no desire not to exist …"

She turned to look at Luthene. "That is why I am wary. Outside of this bubble, enough minds admitting my kinship to your Goddess of the Hours could end me. I'm an abberation, a knot, but one that - unlike your Timedeath - it knows how to get rid of."

She folded her arms. "There. Are my credentials satisfactory? Or would you like more than just my word?"

Author: Century, Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 2:14 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Waiting patiently, the god watched the exchanges between the three mortals with hands held behind his back. It was fascinating, as well as enlightening. In a way, all three were connected, even though in the female warrior's case it was not directly. Shared histories were evident. And other things besides.

While they paid plenty of attention to each other, a wave washed over the blister protruding from Mendean's realm. Standing there in a three-dimensional cross-section of his home, he could feel the strain of reality pushing against him, attempting to squeeze the hernia back inside. The added pressure of temporal forces tearing at his reality did not help. Their time here was limited, but there was no point in alarming them. He had no wish to demonstrate his limits to a group of strangers.

The god's figure strobed as he moved closer to the small group. Trace echoes of himself. A multi-faceted worm moving through higher echelons of space. When he spoke, it was easier to hear the multitude of voices. Listening to him was like honing in on a single voice in a crowd. “You have already shared. I know, for example that you are from another continuity. You say that for now you have no control over time, which by your tone implies that you once had precisely that facility.
'If your world is anything like ours, only a deity would have control over time, which leads me to conclude you are a fallen goddess of the hours. Perhaps the same as our own ill-fated goddess, whose death caused all of what is happening here.”

Mendean glared pointedly at the elf, as though to apportion blame with his gaze alone. He knew stories of the great war. How it was the arrogance and meddling of the goddess of the hours that had brought about the calamity. Hubris. That was the impression he had been given.

Drawing a sharp breath, the deity moved in a slow arc around the group, watching the shifting world outside. “If you are from the same world that my counterpart came from, then I know who you are. I also know that world has suffered greatly. I heard it was toppling backwards in time, diminishing in the process. There are many refugees from there who have had to make their home here.” Mendean stopped and looked sidelong at the elf. “You'd better saddle up. You have work to do and not much time to do it in. It's the end of the world, don't you know?”

Author: Luthene, Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 1:48 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The more time went on, the more Luthene regretted answering the stranger and going to find her. The woman had said she might be helpful, but if anything, she was obstructionist. "How do you know you can't protect yourself against it? You won't go anywhere near anything you think feels wrong!"

She was so angry and frustrated that Luthene didn't really see the rider at first, not until he was speaking to them and getting out of the saddle. Luthene stared at him in silence for a moment, trying to figure out what was so damn familiar about him. She'd been about to take his offer- maybe on a horse she could outrun whatever it was holding her back- when the boy spoke, and the landscape changed. For Luthene, the whole effect was jarring. She was dizzy, and stepped away from the group to empty her stomach on the sand. Even further away, though, she still heard the boy as if she was right beside him and silent. The Nexus, he said. His home. When he mentioned the threshold, Luthene almost took the offer then and there. Instead, however, she retched again, then returned to the group and gave the stranger a hard look.

The more she spoke, the more infuriated Luthene became. She had to bite down on her lip to keep from shouting at her again. Fortunately, the man, Mathuin- no that's wrong- spoke, and Luthene had a few spare moments to regain some composure. Then Mathuin addressed her directly, and it was safe enough to answer him.

"Alyson," Luthene replied, going back to her alias for now. "I'm with a Highland company. A man I fought with before the war, he vouched for me. He's back at the clock now, with a group of scholars the pair of us are supposed to be protecting, except I left him to help her," Luthene said, nodding at the elf, "and I can't get back. But I need to get back."

Luthene turned back to the woman, calmer now, but anger still present just below the surface. "You don't trust us, fine. But we've no reason to trust you. You're not from this world, and we cannot know if anything you say is in our interests. You say you have more knowledge about this than the scholars who have been studying the problem for years, but won't elaborate. You won't even tell us your name. You say that it's for our protection, that you don't want to reveal anything that will make the problem worse, but had no such reservations about asking me questions about this world. Questions which I answered honesty, I might add, and life as we know it did no come to a sudden hault. This is my world I'm trying to save, and I think the people living here should be the ones to decide if we're willing to risk it. And I, for one, am, because I'm certainly not about to trust your information without knowing how you know it. Trust needs to go both ways, and the more useless, evasive responses you give, the less I trust any information you claim to have, information you've yet to actually reveal. So we'll start with your name, I think, and the reason why you are so familiar with time."

Luthene paused, looked at the horse, an added, "And if you keep evading then I think I'll strap you to that horse and send you riding into the next wave and we can see what happens. It might be useful, and even if it's not, you won't be in the way anymore."

Author: Mathuin, Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 10:49 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The world started to shimmer and Mathuin cursed under his breath. More damned magic. Why did he think he had to be here? He could have stayed in a nice soft bed, drank himself silly, then headed south again. But no, here he was, with an elf, a human, and some man that could bend the world around him and it was enough to drive a man mad. He should have known that it was a bad idea. Likely, deep down, he had, and yet here he was. Some things, it seemed, never changed.

“Pleasure to meet you too,” he said with a wry smile, inclining his head toward the elf. “Mathuin’s my name, so aye, I am me. Unless this fella’s magic’s made me not me. In which case, no, I am not.” When he spoke, he deliberately thickened his accent so the Highland burr was unmistakable. “Now if you were to introduce yourself to the rest, maybe I could see if the you that you are knows that me that I am, eh?” With a cheeky wink, he turned back to the boy, nodding at his words. It was magic, and thus far over his head.

“Wish I could help, boss, but I am just passing through. But I ain’t about to let the ladies go off on their own, so I go wherever you lot do. If you can think of any use for me, of course, I am all ears, but I must warn you. I can’t cast anything more powerful than a shadow, so I don’t see myself being high in your plans.” Something was offputting about the boy but he could not place it, though in the moment, everything was off-putting. The whole world was a thousand instances of itself and he was already trapped in one he did not choose. He glanced over at the blonde woman, knowing her without a moment’s thought. He instinctively brushed his fingers over the stiches that mended his shirt and smiled. “And you, blondie, what’s your story? You’ve got Highland arms, by the look of you, but you ain’t from there. As lost as I am?”

The elf’s words struck a chord in him and Mathuin leaned on his saddle frame and looked at her with an unblinking gaze. “Well, I wager you most certainly have seen worse, but this is pretty bloody bad, so let’s get you moving and get this settled, yeah? We can’t lose this world as well.” He leaned closer to the elf, lowering his voice to a whisper meant for her ears alone. “And don’t be so sure about getting home when all’s said and done. I’ve been here these two years past and haven’t had even a whiff of a way out and back. So might as well settle in for the long haul, even without all your shoes to keep you company.”

Author: Aralli, Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 6:59 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

"If this were my doing, I'd be able to at least protect myself from it," the woman snapped back at Luthene, and then she grimaced, putting a hand to her head. She stared dumbly at the approaching rider, and if she'd looked as though she'd seen a ghost before that was nothing to now, and she squeezed her forehead with her hand and -

The Nexus wrapped around them, and finally her head cleared. She straightened up, and even though Mendean was eyeing her like a fox might a rabbit, she turned first to the man who'd appeared at the very last moment.

"You," she accused. "It's actually you, isn't it?" She glared, then swung round to the being who'd brought them to temporary safety.

"I had better not be involved," she said, summoning calm back into her voice with an effort. "I come from another world. That world has parallels to this. And you will have to forgive me," she did not look at Luthene, "if I am wary about what I share, because already those parallels are causing damage, and if I - or anyone - decides to spill information without thought then it might draw things together or push them further apart, putting even more strain on a fabric that's already - well, I've seen worse." Her lips settled into a grim line; her gaze darted to the man. "But only once.

"For now - I have no power over Time. I have no special magic to fix this. But I have remembered experience and remembered knowledge, so perhaps I can guide your scholars and gods to a better solution than mere guesswork can. And then, before the last portal closes, I am going home."

Author: Century, Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 4:51 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

He stepped from one black form to another, as though walking down a staircase, except his glistening stairs were alive and moving.So much happened in such a short time. The familiar human woman stuttered. For an instant Mendean perceived her in two places at once. Angela appeared, shouted something in words he could barely make out, much less understand. A horseman arrived, slow at first, then accelerating into the same temporal paradigm as the rest of them. He too spoke in the crude barking tongue of Adeluna. Why did everyone insist on using that barbarian language? The god mused from his crown of tentacles.

The one that made the most sense was the elf. Curious to Mendean, given that many elves failed to make any sense at all to him. It was all philosophy and references when engaging in conversation with their kind. And slow. Definitely slow. Being an immensely long-lived species gave them more time to form their thoughts, and they relished every second.

But this woman was unlike any elf he had encountered before. He felt an odd sense of kinship with her, that he could not put his finger on. Mendean screwed his eyes shut for a moment, clearing his head. There would be time for speculation later. Right now he had been asked for a thing. All things had a price, whether the petitioner knew it or not. It was a part of Mendean's nature. He smiled, lips parting enough to show teeth. Words were not necessary at this time. The black tentacles thinned around him as he approached the ground, extending outwards in a great arc to become gossamer-thin threads, adding a thin layer of charcoal-coloured transparency to the scene around them, throwing the god into stark relief against the backdrop. The smile broadened into a grin.

“Help. Away. Yes.” He spoke falteringly, turning the ugly foreign words over in his mouth as he sought to attribute some level of poetry and meaning to them, but they came out disappointingly flat. Face flickering with irritation, his gaze shot up and he began to see what the traveller had already seen with senses more attuned to the situation than his. Multiple infractions. Colliding possibilities. Utter annihilation. No. Thing.

For the second time today, Mendean felt his stomach churn with fear.

“Daleko!” Mendean flattened his palm, lowering into a crouch as he slammed the ground with a force that sent ripples through every cell. A shift in the resonance of the world, spreading rapidly until the immediate area shimmered and blurred for a moment, then fell still. He remained where he was, on one knee as he let out a long breath, then rose to his feet once more and looked round.

The maze was still visible, as was the clock and the lake, but it was as though they were obscured somehow by multiple images of themselves, flickering and changing. A mote of stability in the eye of a storm. And yet nothing in this place was stable. The ground flickered and shifted, different permutations of itself. Expressions in multiplicity. Mendean looked over each person briefly before speaking. He flickered like his surroundings.

“We have travelled without moving. You are in a branch of the Nexus. A meeting of many places. You understand me because I am speaking in every language simultaneously. This…crossroads, is my home. For the moment, we are safe. If you wish to return to the world…” Mendean indicated the flickering landscape surrounding them. “Then you need only to step beyond that threshold.”

Brushing unkempt hair from his eyes, he viewed the traveller with an almost predatory expression. “You are different from the rest. More…attuned to what is occurring. Involved, perhaps? But you offer help. What kind?”

Author: Mathuin, Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 1:51 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Revaliir was finally starting to feel like home, Mathuin thought as he scratched his grey-streaked beard sleepily. It had taken a while after he was deposited here through the rift, but he had made peace with his situation and began to treat this land as his home, as much as a nomad could call anything home. He did not stay in any place overly long, traveling the length and breadth of Canelux, trading rumors and news for coin, doing odd jobs when it suited him, and living off the land when he could. It was a simple life and if afforded him the freedom he had lacked before, bound down with onerous responsibilities to his people and his oaths. Now he was a man without a country and it suited him down to the ground. He pushed his sheets off and pulled himself upright in the bed in a Sularian inn. His muscles were sore but it was to be expected after the hours he spent with his sword the day before. It was a fun sort of trick, looking as he did, a poor, down on his luck Highlander cast adrift in the world, and he would stand out on a market day and offer ten crescents for anyone that would beat him for the price of a crescent. And for every time he lost, and there were a few if he was honest with himself, there were dozens that would lose in often hilarious fashion, and he left the market a richer man each time.

He willed himself to get out of the comfortable bed and face the day with a grimace, stretching as he stood. He did not want to bother himself with the worries of the clock but he would be remiss if he did not at least see the madness himself so he could invent a good story about it when he returned south or made his way across the sea. When he washed his face in the small basin of water on the table, he saw his reflection in the polished bronze mirror. It was startling, as he often did not bother with mirrors, and he took a moment to commit it to memory. He was scarred in a few places, with a star-shaped scar on his chest from an arrow and other nicks and scratches on his torso. There was another scar on his left cheek that gave him a dangerous look that was offset by an easy, wide smile and flashing blue eyes. His brown hair grew longer now, and his beard was streaked with a few strands of grey since he passed through the crack to this land. He doubted if many of his companions from his own side would recognize him now, with his skin tanned by the sun and the beard.

He pulled the linen shirt at the foot of the bed over his head, looking wistfully at the small, even line of stitches that closed up what had been a sword thrust he took in battle, remembering the woman that mended it fondly. She was gone and he had come to grips with that, but it would be a cold day in the Abyss before he got rid of that shirt. He pulled on his boots, their thick leather and hobnails ensuring that would last over the miles he traveled over Canelux. He did not need his armor, he decided, especially in the heat, so he instead wore a leather arming jacket, the wooden buttons left open as a concession to the heat of the day. Finally, he fastened his sword belt around his waist, letting the heavy blade settle on his left with a steel buckler looped over the top of the scabbard. The blade was heavy and crude, re-forged a number of times, but like the shirt, he would never trade it for even the finest blades of Adeluna or Tarishitar. It had once killed a man who betrayed him in a fight that Mathuin should have lost and he knew the blade was lucky.

After a short breakfast of cold beef and bread, Mathuin hired a horse from the inn’s stable and headed toward the maze. He wanted nothing to do with this, not in the slightest, remembering the last time he had been caught up in a crisis that involved the gods in his own realm. It cost him two friends, countless comrades, and his marriage and he was not keen to lose the detached freedom of his rambling around the world. The ride was pleasant, Mathuin thought, for being in a desert that was threatened with rippling shifts of time. These rifts held no concern for Mathuin, having already been through one before and survived. The maze and the towering clock appeared on the horizon and he spurred his horse faster toward them, sending up spurts of sand behind him. To his right, he saw a cluster of people on the dunes near the maze, and one broke into a run toward the maze. Mathuin turned his horse toward the ones that remained, thinking to offer them help to the maze if it was required. Only then the woman, he could tell now as he closed the distance, had jumped back to the group out of thin air. So the clock was starting to fail even more, he thought, pulling up his reins as he came alongside them.

“I don’t know what you lot are doing out here, but things are safer closer in.” He swung out of his saddle and nodded to the women, then blinked. Both were familiar to him, but not from this time. He swallowed heavily then offered the reins to Luthene and Ara. “You ladies can ride the last way, the both of you. I’d just suggest we not stay out here much longer before something bloody terrible happens.” He smiled with his secret pleasure of recognition, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling. “Now, blondie and the one with the badger hair, let’s move. We don’t have Time to waste,” he said, putting heavy emphasis on the word time and chuckling. Even in the midst of everything going to the Abyss, the Maker found a way to bring him laughter. Unless he had lost his mind, of course, but it just seemed too perfect. Time come to the clock and the general that fought her as well. The Maker was a hilarious bastard.

Author: Luthene, Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 1:12 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Luthene didn't look back as she ran back to the oasis, to the lake, to the clock, to Galin. She cursed the sand underfoot, which slowed her down, and it took too long for the enormous clock and the large crowd of people around it to come into view. Only when she was close enough to see faces did she finally slow. There was a woman there headring a group of women with those strange green-and-red eyes through a portal. To where? Luthene wondered. Is anywhere safe?

The woman said something, but Luthene hardly heard. "Yes", she replied, but all the while her eyes were scanning the crowd. Then she saw him, getting the scholars together before the wave hit. She started to run again, but her body wouldn't move, and suddenly she found herself further away, into the desert, right back where she had left the stranger.

" No!" Luthene exclaimed when she realised she had been shunted back in time, back to where she had been just a few minutes before. "No, I have to get back!" She turned to the stranger. It was irrational, but she blamed the woman anyway. "Who are you? Tell me who you are!" Luthene demanded. "This isn't the time to be so bloody evasive or distrustful! If you know something, then out with it, or go back to whatever frozen hole you crawled out of and stop holding me here!"

Author: Aralli, Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 4:36 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

((Not sure what language Angela spoke in, but I'll guess the vague intent was clear.))

The stranger took a step back as Angela appeared, then held her ground. Her wants surged against each other: fix this, save myself, go home. And don't break everything, a desire and a fear. And then Angela left.

"Do not take me there," the woman snapped up at Mendean, gesturing towards the maze then swiping her arms to say no. Her mind pulsed with a strong negative. "I won't risk it!" She projected an image from her mind, an intricate weave no longer unravelling but snapping apart, threads whipping away like broken musical strings. Her forceful gaze was directed right at the boy.

The front of the time wave was getting closer; little pockets of realities popping in and out of sight. The new grey streak in the woman's hair widened, and the nearest bubble drained away.

"Take me somewhere else!" She swung her arms out in every direction away from both the maze and the rippling disturbance in Time. "And maybe then I can help!"

Author: Angela Rose, Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 4:00 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Her time as goddess had been a long one in her mind. Sometimes it was a punishment rather than a blessing. Her people did not believe in gods at first until her ascension and since then she was viewed as the Matron Daughter under the Matron Mother. Her red and green eyes looked over to her grandmother who was helping her carry a large piece of the clock from one end of Sularia to the other. Perks of being a strong being, they didn't need many people for this job.

Her grandmother had caught her looking and gave her a nod forward. The waves and fighting was growing worse. They had their best helping to defend the people here. Angela was growing frustrated though as she watched the skies and looked back to Willow. The Matron Mother kicked the goddess so she would keep moving. Willow understood why Angela was so preoccupied. Everyone born these last couple centuries were her children and there were those of her own blood.

Finally her eyes set upon the aura of one of the conclave. Her voice boomed as someone came to relieve her. She moved to the god as Luthene ran off. "There is no other place to go." Angela's words were cold as she stared towards the woman. Looking up at her brother she gave him a nod. "Take her to the center. Time is more stable there but I'm afraid we're not as strong there."

There was a shake in the ground as she looked in the direction of the clock. "This is a mess." Eytelia.. Offering Mendean a frown she turned. "I have to find my children. The clock is safest and that is where I've hidden them." It was time for her to send them home.

The ground swallowed her up and spat her back up on the other side near the clock. She looked at the scholars and everyone attempting to help. "I want my children out of here now!" The goddess was angry but the Rosenites looked towards her with sympathy. She was The Mother and all of this was so painful to her.

Another shake from the ground came as a boy ran into her arms. He had to be about fifteen. She pet his hair and spoke a little. "Take your sisters and go. I know I said this place was safe but I want you in the Sundering Gardens." She stroked back his hair. "I won't lose you like everyone else." Was there really a way to save everyone? The boy gathered a brood of girls. All of them different ages. 

She kissed each one on the forehead. "I'll make this up to you, to each and every one of you." Opening up a portal to the gardens she sent them away. Her eyes locked onto Luthene's as the woman got closer. "You were with the one back there, yeah? I'm curious about her." The time around her had an intoxicating feeling almost like one she had felt before. The Goddess stopped and summoned Trandafir to her side.

The obsidian staff allowed her to lean on it as she stared up at the clock. "Damnit Randal… Look at the mess you put us into." She rubbed her red curls and remembered that day. From the tears of many to the war cries of others. She hadn't hid herself but rather hid her realm from others so her precious children were safe.

Author: Aralli, Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 2:40 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The nightmare-wave rushed into view, and the stranger froze. She stared, not at the seething mass of tentacles but at the boy on top, eyes narrowing, jaw working, concentration and growing confusion spilling over her face.

Who are you? she shouted into the emptiness, taken aback by her inability to find a mind, a presence, an aura to touch. What are you? What -

Luthene took off at a run, and the stranger's mind abruptly retreated into itself, thoughts hiding behind a shimmering, silver wall. She turned to look out across the desert, seeing something not visible to the eyes - her head tracked the surges of time-disruption, and she dropped her bundle for her fingers to twitch and claw as if trying uselessly to weave something.

A strand of hair, limp and frazzled, greyed from chestnut to silver. But the flow, if Mendean could sense it, was odd. Off, somehow. Instead of the blotches and blips that made someone age or disappear and then return, the disturbance seemed to ground itself into the elf, dissipating but leaving behind its mark.

"And they call this place stable?" she muttered cynically, watching the sand dunes shift in and out and around each other, moving closer. She glanced at the swiftly-disappearing Luthene, then looked back up to Mendean. Her former confusion gave way to a flat, pragmatic expression.

"So," she called up, "It's coming our way. But I think it'll wear itself out before it hits us. If, on the other hand, you'd rather not risk it and would like to get me out of here …"

Author: Luthene, Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2015 7:57 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

So the stranger did not know her name? That was the conclusion Luthene drew when the woman didn't react when Luthene introduced herself. If the stranger knew her and still didn't trust her, that would be fair, but that didn't seem to be the reason. She sighed. More secrets, then. At least she was walking.

After they had been walking in silence a while, the stranger asked about Galin. "We were friends before the war," Luthene explained, a bit surprised by the question. "We met in.. Adeluna." It was a struggle to name the city, because a part of her thought it was wrong. "At a tavern there, the Mermaid. I'm not sure how we got talking, but we started, and the next thing I knew, it was last call and we had to leave. We were both working as mercenaries, just starting person, but the !order was too cheap to hire another. I had been hired to clean out anest of goblins who were living on some lord's estate, and I had complained about it because a job like that requires at least two people, otherwise it's too easy for the goblins to swarm in and overwhelm a person Galin offered to help. Sure enough, it took the two of us, but we managed it. I owed Galin a favour after that, and we worked together for a time, before the war." Luthene paused. The stranger was asking all the questions, and Luthene was tempted to refuse to say more until she learned something in return. Besides, it seemed the woman was more interested in Galin's role in the war than how he and Luthene had met.

There wasn't time to make any ultimatum. A black wave appeared on the horizon, and a young boy riding atop it. He reached the pair, looked down at them, and said something in a language Luthene recognised, but didn't understand. She shook her head, and was about to ask him if he knew the trade language of Adeluna when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Looking around, she saw the sand to the east start to rise, fall, appear and then disappear. Another wave. She had to get back to the clock. Galin, she thought. The scholars.

"Get her to safety," Luthene said to the strange boy, not knowing if he could understand her, but not having the time to wait around and find out. She took off in a run back to the clock.

Author: Century, Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2015 2:31 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Negotiating the warp and weft of paradoxical flux was difficult, but a skill the young deity had no choice but to develop quickly. Prodigious senses gave him an edge that other mortals did not possess. Nevertheless, his journey to the area where he had sensed a strong psychic presence had been a hazardous one. The strain on his immortal form had been great, as time had telescoped, only to suddenly compress. He had stared helplessly as the sun had leapt overhead again and again in a cycle of blistering heat and deepest cold. The heat of days compressed into moments. It had been agonising, but he had made it through, brute-forcing his way back into normalcy, watching the scars of that particular ordeal fade from his pallid skin. If he had been a mortal, it was likely he would have starved to death by now.

But he was sustained by a different source. The chaos that timedeath was generating, perversely gave him strength. Here in Canelux, buoyed-up by the madness of the situation, he was in his element, but he knew it was only temporary. If the phenomenon was not brought under control, he did not expect to survive what would follow.

Carried by a seething mass of glistening black tendrils that burst from the earth, forming, dissolving and re-forming beneath him, Mendean walked as though climbing steps, matching the subtle undulations beneath his feet instinctively. He rose to an altitude that would have matched the height of a two-storey building, had there been any structures present. Instead, he moved nearest the maze, staring down into its twisting depths, seeking out the mind he had sensed earlier.

There. Two people. One of this world and one from elsewhere. An all-too-common occurrence in these times. He barely understood the words being spoken though. The irony of a stranger from another world being better-able to converse in the native tongue than he could, did not escape him.

Black tendrils extended out before his feet as he walked towards the pair, a sense of recognition tingling in the back of his mind. Mendean – the other Mendean – had known the armed woman after a fashion. But the other one…there was something…

The temptation to invade their minds, to communicate with them in images, memories pulled from their own heads, symbolism, sensation and feelings, was there, but he resisted. To do so came with its own risks. Telepathic communication involved opening one's self up too. Allowing others to experience the churning nightmare of his world. If unprepared, their minds could be scarred by contact with his own. And he did not know the motivations of this alien. It was why he had not responded to her call. More information was required before actions could be taken.

As he rose over the scene like a surfer, riding the crest of a black wave, the dream lord gazed down impassively at the two women and called down to them in Wyllmochvaran. “To je opasno ostati ovdje. Još pristupi val.” It is dangerous to remain here. Another wave approaches.

Author: Aralli, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 2:06 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The woman took a deep breath, coughed, and drank. She held the water in her mouth for several long seconds before she swallowed.

"I want to trust you," she said quietly. "But I don't know you." Her face twisted with something very much akin to misery. "I want to, gods, but …"

She sighed, and took a step forwards. And then another. She was following. Reluctantly, and against her better judgement, she was moving.

"To the edge of this maze thing, then. But if I feel it getting worse, I'm getting out of there."

Her hands wrung themselves in the fur and wool of her cloak as she walked, making her knuckles white beneath their layer of sand.

"Luthene," she said, after a while. "Tell me what happened after you left the … Godslayer. Tell me what side …. this Galin was and how you became friends."

Author: Luthene, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 1:50 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Luthene noticed that the woman wasn't following, and turned back, a bit frustrated, ready to tell her to follow or stay in the desert alone,but she saw how the stranger had froze, and noted the expression on her face. Something Luthene had said had unnerved her. She mulled over it, and in the back of HR mind, she thought she might know. But how to be sure?

Hearing the dryness in the stranger's voice, Luthene handed her the canteen again. It could be refilled. The stranger continued to speak, and Luthene was quiet, watching her. There was tension on her face, the anxious movements; Luthene was very familiar with such behaviour. Was the stranger hiding something? Something she desperately did not want others to find out? Luthene could empathise with that, and she was seeing her own actions reflected in the stranger.

"People here know time is neither steady nor regular. We've known it since the start of Timedeath; for some, it's all they've ever really known.." Luthene sighed. "I will need to return to the clock, otherwise Galin might worry. We lost some of the scholars we were travelling with when a time wave washed over us, and took them with it. Those waves are new, I think. I don't want him to think that happened to me if I don't get back soon." She paused, thinking. "There's a maze. Part of it is near the clock, but perhaps on the far side, that will be far enough away for you?" Luthene hoped it was. There wasn't really anywhere else to go. "I can take you there, and then I'll return to the clock, speak to Galin, and see if any of the scholars I came here with are interested in your expertise?"

A nagging voice in the back of Luthene's mind told her to say more, that if perhaps she trusted the stranger, the stranger might reveal more in turn. "Luthene. I go by Alyson, and I would prefer you use it, but my name is Luthene."

Author: Aralli, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 12:53 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The stranger nodded at the mention of parallel worlds, but did not follow Luthene. Instead, at the name Galin, she froze and looked as though she'd been struck.

It took several moments for her to shake herself out of whatever shock had taken her. She folded her arms tightly around the bundle of her cloak. Her clothes were well-tailored and made of fine fabrics, though presently covered in sand, and her gear was of good quality and most of it relatively new.

"I'm not saying they can't fix the clock or fix the whole problem," she said, rasping as if she needed another drink. "They're probably right that it's the key. I'm questioning their definition of stable. It's …" She closed her eyes for a moment. "I can't find a good analogy. But it feels taut. Like it might be a bit safer right now, but if it all goes wrong, that would be the very worst place to be. People think Time is steady and regular, always marching on, but underneath that is so much tension waiting to snap."

She shifted uneasily, watching Luthene. There was something odd going on inside her face, muscles jumping in her jaw and throat. Finally, she seemed to make a decision, and her shoulders sagged.

"We had our own problems with Time in my world. I have some experience in these matters. I'm worried that I could upset whatever balance is holding that place safe, just by being there. The eddies, the … I'm not from here. My presence may exacerbate any instabilities."

Something about the stranger's words sounded off. Her less deliberate remarks had the air of one who knew a field intimately, but then she would close off and become stiff, and the words didn't sound quite as trustworthy coming from her mouth. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, waiting for Luthene to take her at her word or else call her bluff.

Author: Luthene, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 12:36 PM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The stranger did not offer her own name, Luthene noted. Granted, Luthene had used her alias, but it was the one known to e scholars who had hired her, and she wasn't ready to reveal her true name to people. Not yet. The name of Luthene was known by too many people for all the wrong reasons. Did this other woman not introduce herself out of the same fear?

The stranger continued to speak directly into Luthene's mind, which bothered her a bit. How was such a thing possible? She knew some mages were capable of such feats, but Luthene was no mage. It was hard to hear the woman this way, like her voice passed through some sort of barrier. As though someone else was listening on Luthene's behalf, and then repeating the words.

Helping the woman gather her belongings, she said, "The scholars have been right about a lot of things where Timedeath is concerned. They spoke of portals opening from other words, and you know first-hand the truth of that. Something about… Parallel words, very similar to ours. Does that sound like your world?" 

Luthene wasn't sure what to do. Her job was to see a group of scholars to the clock, and they were her responsibility. But what the woman said intrigued her. Did they have it wrong? Was the clock not the answer? One of the scholars she had travelled to Arri with wasn't sure. Alas, he was one of the ones lost along the way.

"I have to go back to the lake where the clock is," Luthene finally said in a decisive tone, and started walking back in that direction. "At the very least, I have to tell Galin- the man I'm with- where I'm going, and most scholars are there, too. After that… we'll see. But how do you know about time, and how can you be so certain that our scholars are wrong about the clock's ability to restore it?" She paused. "And anyway, what if time works differently in our world, compared to yours? You know how time works in your world perhaps, but this is not your world. Things may be quite different in Revaliir."

Author: Aralli, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 11:51 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

As Luthene came closer, the woman, weary and parched as she was, stiffened. She watched her rescuer approach with eyes that were as wary and suspicious as they were red-shot and salt-rimed.

"Alyson," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. She took the canteen and drank, throat convulsing with each gulp. "Thank you." She held the canteen, still half-full, back out. She still looked … haunted.

After a moment, she turned away, bending stiffly to pick up her things. "It was snowing where I come from," she explained, voice still rough. "I'm not completely stupid. But I can't go to that - that clock. Your scholars say it's stable?" She scoffed, which turned into a hacking cough.

When she had recovered, the woman looked back at Luthene, and her face had hardened.

"You've helped a stranger," she said, with an odd pause and look at the end of that. "Thank you. You're kind. I … I don't have anything to offer you directly." She sounded awkward, as if she was unused to making transactions. "But I have …"

I have knowledge. Of the workings of these things, of - of Time. No power over it. But I know it. So get me to your scholars, some place that isn't that clock, and I may be able to help.

But I'm not going to that clock. Her tone and face were both decisive. If they say it's stable - one, they don't get it, and two, I won't risk …

She trailed away, hefting her pack onto her back and bundling her winter layers into her arms. "Let's go."

Author: Luthene, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 11:32 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

For a long while, the mental voice was silent, and Luthene wondered if she was still there, or if she had gone back through a portal to her own world. But she kept going anyway, feeling something, and Luthene followed that feeling until she saw something on top of a rise. Luthene quickened her pace a bit, but still favouring her right leg a bit. 

When she was close enough to see the woman clearly, she saw that she had stripped down to her undertunic, and there was a bundle of furs nearby. No one in their right mind would wear such heavy clothing here, which lead credence to the woman's claim that she arrived through a portal. Luthene herself was dressed in a light, drab brown tunic, trousers, and a leather cuirass. There was a sword strapped to her belt, along with a long knife.

The voice returned, and Luthene answered it. During the war, the Godslayer, Randal, challenged her to a duel. He had a weapon he said could kill those of the Conclave, who call themselves gods, and he wanted to prove that he could. He hated that woman in particular, though I never learned why. I never even knew her name, just her title. I think she was a good person, though; she died well. She was helpless, and all it took was a glancing blow to turn her to dust, but she died well. Luthene paused a long while, and by the time she could say more, she was close enough to speak aloud. "I was there when it happened. I had been fighting with Randal, but after watching him kill her, I left. I couldn't such a man." She handed the woman a canteen. "My name is…" Again Luthene paused. "Just call me Alyson. That's what I go by these days."

Author: Aralli, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 10:56 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

If Luthene were looking for it - if she knew how - she would have felt the mental presence recede to the barest touch, keeping a faint link so as not to lose her, but neither listening or speaking. It wasn't until Luthene began to direct her thoughts outwards again that the stranger resumed the firm mental contact.

At the word Timedeath, something shivered down the connection between them, but the reaction was swiftly suppressed. And then, as Luthene told her story, there was silence. Blankness, static, a deliberate hiding of every thought that might be going through the stranger's head.

There was no reply to Luthene's explanation. The stranger was still there, but whatever she was thinking, she did not want Luthene to hear it.

It wasn't hard to find the woman; a dark blot on the top of a rise resolved itself into a figure surrounded by scattered detritus. An elven woman stood there, in undertunic and trousers, staring at Luthene's approach. There was a pack at her feet, and a furred winter cloak, and thick woolen clothes that had been discarded in the heat. There was no sign of any weapon. Even from a distance, it was clear she was suffering from the heat; her light tunic was sweat-drenched and her hair, oddly streaked with strands of grey, was a limp frizz around her pinched face.

I see you. The communication abruptly resumed. Thank you. The woman - the goddess. Her tone was stilted and awkward. How did she die?

Author: Luthene, Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 9:58 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Luthene was confused at first. The right sort of mind? What did she mean by that? And what about the sun, how else could it work? Then the voice- a woman, she thought- mentioned she came through a portal, and it made a bit more sense. So the scholars had been right about people entering Revaliir from other worlds. But friend or foe?

The woman needed help, and Luthene wasn't sure how to offer it. Afar as two miles southwest, but from where Luthene stood, or from the town? The woman didn't want to get near the tangle, but the problem was, the tangle was everywhere.

Someone approached Luthene, a woman with strange green and red eyes. "Bring her here," the woman said. "It's not as bad nearer the clock."

First, Luthene sought out Galin, and told him she needed to looking for someone. Another fool's errand, perhaps, but so much of this trip was. She started to walk southwest.

It's Timedeath, Luthene said, but she more thought the words, hoping the foreign woman could hear. Time seems to pass differently for people, and sometimes it will pass in waves, forcing people to experience another time- past, future, occasionally the present but an alternate present. It's difficult to explain. All of this started during the war, when one of the Conclave was killed, a woman who titled herself Goddess of the Hours. We only now found a way to repair the damage, or at least that is the hope. There's a clock here, and the theory is that it can regulate time. Try coming to me; it's a bit more stable nearer the clock, or so the scholars tell me.

Author: Aralli, Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2015 11:26 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

There was a moment of silence, and then the mind that had spoken out returned, louder and clearer and focused. There was relief in the tone, and it sounded vaguely like a woman.

So there is someone there with the right kind of mind. Assuming the sun works the same way here as it does in my world, and you measure distance the same way, I'm … two, maybe one and a half miles south-west from that town or whatever it is where I'm guessing you are.

There was a pause, and when the voice returned, it was starting to sound strained.

Look, I came through a portal. I need to know what's happening. But first, I need water and shade or whatever it is keeps you alive out here, and I won't go near that tangle, not if it's unstable enough for me to feel it out here. Will you help me?

Author: Luthene, Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2015 11:07 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

As someone who was supposed to be seeing the scholars- and their books, writing materials, and trunks of gears, springs, and strange crystals- Luthene didn't feel very useful. Her injured leg bothered her, but there were no signs of any lingering infection. A Wyllmochvaran scholar, who had studied under and apothecary for a time, had given her something for it, and it helped, but dulled r mind; she refused to take any more. If they got into trouble, she'd need her wits, and the rush of a fight would ensure that her injury didn't slow her. All the same, Luthene hoped she would have no need to draw a blade.

Arri, Luthene learned, was a kingdom located in an oasis in the northern part of the Harena desert. The scholars had arranged for a guide to meet them in Cittapashe, then take them through the desert along routes typically used by the nomads who cell such an inhospitable place home. It meant taking a longer route to Arri, but they'd find sources of water along the way. The desert was insufferably hot, so they traveled at night; it was still hot then, too, but at least there wasn't the sun making it worse. In spite of this, the journey wasn't too difficult.

Until the wave hit.

Luthene never saw it coming. It was nearly sunrise, and she had stepped away from the rest of the group to relieve herself before getting ready to sleep for a few hours. As a result, she didn't realise anything was wrong until she heard the screaming. At first, she thought it came from the scholars, but there were too many voices. By the time she rejoined the group, the wave had passed… and it took some of the scholars, their supplies, and their guide as well. In a panic, Luthene looked for Galin, terrified that she had lost him,  taken him on this pointy venture and lost him, but then he appeared from behind the huddled mass of remaining scholars.

The rest of the trip was far more subdued, as they were forced to travel directly to Arri now that they had no guide to take them to sources of water along the way. There wasn't much food, and another scholar died in agony after eating a plant he had found. When they finally reached the damn oasis, the group was tired, hungry, dehydrated, and smaller… but they still had the trunk with clock parts.

The scholars wasted no time in heading for the clock. Luthene barely had time to eat and wash before she was summoned to take them there. While she was eager to see it herself, she also wanted rest, and rest won out. The group set off early the following morning, and they arrived at the site of the clock about an hour later. There was a large group there already, a mixture of scholars, mages, soldiers, and even common labourers engaged in the more menial construction efforts. From the lake came tentacles, and a young man walked atop them; from this distance, Luthene could not be certain, but she thought he might be barefoot.

Another wave washed over the area. Luthene reached for Galin, but saw skeleton where her hand should be. Then, just like that, it was gone, but once again some people had been lost with it. Luthene looked around, counting; all those she had arrived with were still there.

Is there anyone who can hear me? Luthene heard, and she jerked her hear up and looked for the speaker. Only she couldn't tell from what direction the cry had come.

Who are you? Luthene said, and it took a moment for her to realise that she had not spoken aloud. I can hear you, she said, louder, buy still silent. Where are you?

Author: Aralli, Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:09 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

Is there anyone who can hear me?

A voice, faint like a distant shout, swept through the maze from one side to the other in a focused beam. It was weak, a telepathic touch from a mind far away.

Is there anyone who can hear me? came the voice again. If you can, please shout so I can hear you …

Author: Century, Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 11:29 AM, Post Subject: Timedeath [EVENT, OPEN]

The clock in Kirika Lake was a wonder to behold. An ornate structure built mostly of glass, throwing off rainbow reflections across the water in all directions. A remarkable construct built by unknown engineers in ages past, that many came to see in pilgrimages, where they would take the memories of what they had witnessed with them to their graves. Truly, the water clock was one of the world's wonders.

Except that it was broken.

In fact it had been broken for a long time. This great work was incomplete. Its true nature only recently discovered, in that it was more than a simple timepiece. It was able to regulate time itself.

Many had been aware that the clock had once served a greater purpose, but only now that the continuity of Revaliir was breaking down, was it clear that the builders of the clock had another more vital purpose to its construction. It was not simply a work of astounding beauty. It was Revaliir's last hope.

Mendean stood on the deck of a long skiff, bristling with the power he did not usually experience when he was in his homeland. In Parvpora, the divine gifts were diminished, and he liked it that way. Standing here with hands on hips, squinting up at the immense structure that rose out of the water, he felt less like a person and more like a symbol. A representation of the hopes and dreams of others. The power that flowed through his veins reduced his humanity, making him feel less like the person he knew himself to be.

The clock was a shambles right now. Covered in a mess of ropes, scaffolds and pulleys, workmen from around the globe struggled to understand each other as they barked commands in different tongues. It was certainly slowing the work down and there had already been a number of deaths, but he had been told that every large construction project came hand-in-hand with death. There would be more accidents here though, for those shear glass surfaces, great heights, many tonnes of water, the lack of understanding between groups of workers, all combined with the great haste that was required, meant that it was inevitable. People would die here, and there was little he could do to prevent it.

He looked down and around. There must have been at least a hundred boats, of varying sizes. Many carried construction materials back and forth from the shore. Gangplanks had been lashed to the clock's might struts, nearest the water, for workers to alight from their many vessels. Mendean spotted a number of men and women in rowing boats casting a watchful eye over anyone close to the clock. Judging by their lack of clothes, and the short ropes with inflated bladders attached to them that they carried, they were there purely for the safety of anyone who might fall into the water.

Casting his eye over the shore, there were thousands of people gathered. Some were there to offer whatever support they could, while others had come here, believing the end of the world was nigh and that it would culminate here. He also spotted the flags of many noble houses. That meant there were soldiers present. For the most part, having all these mutual enemies together in one place was a risk, but not even the rulers of Arri would risk turning them away, especially if they came offering help. Presumably they would keep each other in check, or at least, that was the hope amongst Arri's leaders. The end of the world made for strange bedfellows, it would seem.

“Čokot,” whispered the dream walker as he extended a hand towards a relatively quiet patch of shore. Cries went up and people rushed to the side of the skiff, shouting in Wyllmochvaran, for they were his countrymen. He gestured for calm and they quietened down, stepping away from the bough as the water below them churned and bubbled.

Some were unable to suppress their cries of horror as a tangled mass of dark tendrils burst from the lake's surface, dripping like the stuff of nightmares, brought into sharp relief, by the clear light of the desert sun. Mendean stepped forward, spreading his arms wide while he turned his face to the tangled mass of writhing weed-like tendrils. Several of them detaching from the main mass and reaching down with surprising delicacy as they wrapped round the god's arms and waist to lift him high into the air with the gentleness of a mother lifting her babe from its cot.

Once above the mass, it seemed to bow beneath his weight, bending and elongating as it released him. With supernatural grace, Mendean walked upon the tendrils, never slipping. For wherever he placed his feet, a tendril would be waiting for him. As more of them emerged from the waters in front of him, the ones behind him sank back beneath the surface. In this way, he was able to walk back to the shore, that was now emptier than before, for few wished to be near those things. Mendean smiled. He was not usually given to public displays of his power, but it was unavoidable. Besides, there would be others like him here who would show off even more. Of that he had no doubt.

Climbing the sloping shore, something made him hesitate and look up. For a moment, the sky beyond the slope darkened and flickered. Pursing his lips, he knew what it meant. Another time-wave was coming. He had observed that something about the clock kept the worst effects at bay. Only this morning he had watched the skin on the backs of his hands suddenly loosen and become sullied by liver spots, but the effect had been momentary. Even though it was not fully repaired, the clock was still somehow able to keep the worst effects at bay. But the protection offered was barely enough. He dreaded to think how bad things must be in other parts of the world.

Screaming! Thousands of voices, screaming! Reaching the top of the slope, Mendean's head jerked around at the deafening sound, his senses nearly overwhelmed by the psychic pressure coming from the direction of the maze. However, when he looked, he saw no maze. Instead a darkened plain, scorched and churned by unknown forces. His eyes widened as a column, formed of thousands of people, pressed together and lifted into the atramentous sky, surged up, dragging anyone too close into the whole. Every one of them seemed blackened and covered in filthy rags. Every one of them screaming in terror as they were lifted as one into the towering mass. Many pleaded for mercy and some even noticed the young man standing alone on a ridge. He raised his hands, preparing a spell, almost by instinct…

And then the terrible vision was gone. Another time, once more shut away. The maze returned. But what had that terrible vision been? Was it the past? The future? Or another world entirely? As his mind slowed, he saw others struggling to get up. Some were screaming and pleading at thin air. He could see in their minds that they had lost loved ones to that terrible scene. Those who had not been able to get out of the way of the time-wave had been drawn into whatever that had been.

Mendean dusted himself down and checked the sky. It was noon. Barely half the day gone and already something terrible had happened. It was only going to get worse.