The Silver Crown of Fal'Ku (solo)

[DimyrKrutchik]

When the Great Serpent dips its head
And rests on the Mountain of Shul
And behind thee are Fal’Malk and Fal’Brasch
Guarding forever the lands of home
Fallen from the heel of Mizouk
The silver crown of great Fal’Ku
As he once quieted the rages of Kikau
And kept the many thousands
His crown shall protect the believer.

Dimyr gazed at the Great Serpent as it roared above. Behind it, Pufa the Meeble grasped the Great Tail, as if any sudden twist would shatter his hold and relinquish him to the will of Tumtum, known by most as gravity. As Dimyr watched, Pufa held firm, as he had for all of time. In a few days the Great Serpent would come to rest on the Mountain of Shul. Pufa would be allowed to relax his grip for about two weeks as the Great Serpent dozed. And Pufa would be tortured, as he had for all of time, by coming unbearably close to the ground, within but an apple’s fall. But Pufa the Meeble, so weak as he was, would be unable to release himself to Tumtum, and in two weeks time the Great Serpent would reawaken and take to the skies again with a fresh vigor, and Pufa would remain clenched to his Tail, unable to bring himself above his name, as he had for all of time.

The night was pleasantly clear, allowing Dimyr to watch the eternal adventures of the Gods in the black sky above. Most of the Guardians were in the heavens at this time of year, but the Outsiders were starting to appear in the East with Mizouk leading the charge. Dimyr wished a silent prayer that the Gate would hold strong again this year.

From his gazing place on the hill Dimyr could see in all directions quite well, even as the forest spread around him. Most of the sky was pure and black, with a hint of clouds coming in from the sea in the West, and a blur of light emanating from beneath Mizouk, and a bit to the North. Dimyr focused on the light pollution. It should be the city which his ferryman had described, just under a million people and large enough to be seen from a day’s walk. Yes, indeed he could be there by tomorrow night; the forest was impressive but clearly well traveled.

And it was good that he could be there soon. With a rumble in his belly, Dimyr checked his quickly emptying bag. It would be nuts, berries, and water for dinner tonight. Again. Dimyr had managed to bean a rabbit when he first arrived on the island, but that was two days ago and his luck had not been as good since. Dimyr considered the positives; no fire meant a better view of the heavens and their shows, and also less chance to attract a hungry creature. He had seen something large lurking earlier in the day. Dimyr knew he was no match for a panther or a bear, but his ferryman had spoke of even worse. Yes, the lack of meat to cook was quite alright for now.

Well atleast Dimyr wouldn’t have to starve within the city. His coin purse was light, but his stone tumbler was always there to serve. Dimyr had found several nice rocks during the past few days; none were particularly special, but the colors were nicely speckled. Tomorrow he would tumble the last two, and perhaps find a nice morphite. There had been several flakes of such recently; a good find was possible. A well sized and tumbled morphite could buy a hearty dinner indeed!

But for tonight he could only dream of such; lamb, pie, milk, maybe even a slab of whatever beast stalked the forest below. It was surely filled with others as hungry as himself. Dimyr pulled his staff and knife close as he pushed away those thoughts. Claws, fangs, or even swords and cudgels. Dimyr focused instead on the heavens, remembering how Pufa the Meeble would never join his brothers Fal as long as he lived in fear. A silent prayer to the Guardians above as their epics found new life in Dimyr’s slumber.

[DimyrKrutchik]

Great Elki arose, sending the others fleeing. Within minutes none but himself were visible, save Ikle, huddling in the SouthWest. Elki reached down upon the world, smiling upon those who loved and lived beneath him. His warmth brought stirs to the smallest of creatures and his light brought flutters to the eyes to all who faced him. Dimyr was one of these, naturally, and greeted Elki with a yawn.

With little camp to clean, and little breakfast to eat, Dimyr was once again on his way quite early. His travels were simple; he used his left foot, his right foot as well, and occasionally his staff when neither foot wanted to continue. The forest was healthy but not overgrown, and the many paths left by monster and man alike eased his day.

Dimyr’s eyes were always open to the ground. Occasionally Erte would give him gifts; nuts and berries were plentiful if redundant, and the yield of an interesting stone or two brought a smile to his heart. Stones were pleasant; they had been here since the days when the Old Ones touched the ground, giving birth to Erte and a host of others. They remained more or less constant, despite their many interactions with others of their kind and others they did not know. And with just a bit of tumbling, they could be sold for a nice gold piece.

Consequently, Dimyr tumbled as he walked. Long ago he had invested in a crafty tumbler; by simply squeezing and releasing the dull metal box he could turn a rough rock into a shiny stone in just a few hours. A system of gears and rough surfaces which Dimyr had once briefly investigated, the contraption was reliable and durable. So Dimyr walked, staff in one hand, tumbler in the other.

He found his treasure as Ikle rose back into the sky. Dimyr looked up to watch Ikle and Elki exchange greetings, and as they did they cast a brief unusual brightness upon this part of the world. A twinkle of deep red caught Dimyr’s eye from a tree branch above. Since the tree bore no obvious fruit, it was surely worth investigating.

Dimyr placed his few belongings at the base of the tree, after scanning around briefly for any who might wish him harm. He had not been followed, to the best of his knowledge, but one could never be to careful when alone. To say he scurried up the tree would be an exaggeration of his dexterity, but Dimyr did eventually get to the branch where the light had come from. About two meters out sat a large bird’s nest, apparently empty of life at the moment, and yet from the weight it was forcing upon the branch, certainly not empty.

Dimyr slid out along the branch, careful of his weight on the old tree.
The nest was even larger then he had initially thought. Wide as a fruit bowl, it could have held Dimyr when he was a child. And empty it was not. While there were no signs of shells, either used or yet to come, there was a treasure chest of junk hidden in the nest. Many small rocks, several pieces of what appeared to be a shattered dagger, a couple of coins of a currency Dimyr did not know, and wonderfully, a beautiful morphite stone.

That was, of course, when the branch first creaked. Dimyr looked down as he grasped the old bough tight between his legs. About 4 meters up, he could make the jump safely as long as the branch did not come down with him. But he had no rope to pull it down afterwards; this was his only chance. Dimyr edged carefully forwards, waiting for the next creak. He leaned forward, hand outstretched for the morphite. Another creak sounded as fibers in the old branch began to give under Dimyr’s unsupported weight. Dimyr bravely lunged forward, fingers closing around the palm sized stone just as the bough gave.

With a flail, Dimyr’s free left hand managed to snag some young twigs on a higher branch, but this could only help to slow his fall as his seat collapsed beneath him. Dimyr crashed to the ground moments after the old bough did, tossed to the side by the twigs he had grasped. As the spinning in his head slowed, Dimyr lay still, moving each appendage carefully, checking for breaks. His left hand burnt from the whip release of the twigs which had saved him. But his right hand still held his jewel. Dimyr sat up slowly and examined the stone.
It was indeed a deep red morphite, a little smaller then his palm. The stone was imperfect, containing some local sediments, and certainly had little value on its own. With adequate shining it would be pleasant to look at, but really was useless as an ore. But Dimyr was proud of it; this stone was large enough for his purposes.

He picked his belongings up and pocketed the morphite. Then, remembering the odd coin in the nest, went back to where the bough had fallen. A quick search found a few pieces of gilt, perhaps gold but quite small and with an unrecognized stamp. Dimyr pocketed them nevertheless, dusted himself off, and returned to his travels.

[DimyrKrutchik]

Shortly after Elki had left the sky Dimyr caught sight of the walls of Scara Brae. The forest cleared out just down his path, which itself had been widening and becoming more even. And suddenly Dimyr was out of the forest, and on a wide patch of open land encircling the city. On closer inspection this area of the forest had been clear cut to make room for a large number of farms which sprawled out from the walls. The strong lights of the city assisted Dimyr in making his way around the border of the woods, away from where he suspected the gates would be. Tomorrow he would enter and rest his bones, but tonight Dimyr still had work to do.

A better place could not be hoped for! The gentle hills which seemed to have slid off of the mountains to the North created a slight valley with raised sides. It looked like a giant’s mixing bowl and was atleast 3 meters high on all sides. The forest grew up to the lip of the NorthWest side, with fallowed fields on the East. Dimyr placed his belongings on the ground, took out his knife, and began to draw.

A circle carved into the center of the valley, about a meter in diameter, was removed of all growth. The outline of a larger circle was dug around that, 2 meters wider than the first. A furrow connected the smaller circle to the larger one then continued on for 3 meters, a perfectly straight arrow pointing North. The symbol of Fal’Rou, the first Guardian to speak clearly to Dimyr, was carved between the 2 circles, an image of a shield and Beih, or the Guardian’s signature markings. Dimyr did his best to make sure that Fal’Rou’s Beih was as elegant as possible; difficult to do with a knife in the dirt, but he would not want to disappoint Him. Outside of the circle, in line from the center to Fal’Rou’s symbol, Dimyr placed 3 large rocks; 2 on the ground and one ontop of the others, connecting them. This arch would serve as the symbol of the Gate . Next Dimyr placed the morphite in the center of the circle, ontop of a few twigs serving as a makeshift table. Lastly Dimyr placed offerings on top of the Gate, around Fal’Rou’s symbol, and on the table beside the morphite. Dimyr had only nuts and berries to offer, but surely the Gods would be kind.

With it necessary to not have a distracting fire for this ceremony, Dimyr squinted hard to read the words in the BeeHarKuh with just the light of Ikle to assist. It had been a full month since he had last attempted to summon a Demon, but Dimyr had strong memory and believed in the Book. He sat between the 2 circles for some time, reading silently to himself, feeling the awareness of himself grow, connecting with the book, expanding to his surroundings, the images of the Old Ones becoming stronger in his mind’s eye, the Guardians coming to stand beside him. Finally it was time to start calling.

[DimyrKrutchik]

Brah, brah, loo brah,
Brah, brah, loo brah
Brah, lusch mitts heh kal
Brah, lusch da ra kal
Brah, lusch qvu myik kal
Brah, lusch schick dal kal
Brah, may They look upon me
Brah, may They stand beside me
Brah, may They be barred
Old Ones, look upon me
And take interest in my world
Guardians, stand beside me
And protect my world
Outsiders, be barred
And come naught to my world!

While Dimyr chanted he reached out with his consciousness. He had to feel the Gods appearing before him, for if his resolution faltered the spell would be broken. And sure enough, after chanting 10 times, he could feel the Eyes of the Old Ones, and he knew atleast Krow and Baruk were watching. And after 20 recitations, he could feel the Guardians beside him, with Fal’Rou strongly present above his symbol. And after 30 recitations, he could feel the terror, the clawing, howling force of the Outsiders, attracted to the Gate but unable to penetrate. With the full attention of his Gods, Dimyr moved to the next step.

Old Ones, I offer you my body and my soul
For you I shall always be
Guardians, I offer you my food and my strength
For your Shield I shall give mine
Outsiders, I offer you this dead ground
For you there is nothing here
Brah, brah, loo brah
Brah, brah, loo brah
Outsiders, I shall address you now
For I know you always seek to cross the Gate
But the Har is strong
And you may not have the Kuh
I know you have sent you’re young through
To wreak havoc upon my land
Show a Child to me
He will not be harmed
He may share in my food
As we converse about the Ways

And as Dimyr repeated the last phrases he could feel one appear beside him, within the smallest circle. Dimyr’s eyes remained shut, but the image of the Demon burned through his eyelids. He tried to judge the size and shape of the beast as it scampered onto the twigs and began to gnaw on the berries. It was similar in shape to a bat, but with longer legs upon which it hunched. Its head was pointed, with the feel of a beady little imp hungry for Dimyr’s offerings.

Demon, Child of the Outsiders
Turn to me, and tell me thy name!

Dimyr could feel the beast jump as if startled by his words. Its pointed head swung around, coming to rest in Dimyr’s direction. It spoke:

Sheaaa, skya sh kiyah!
My, name, Skya!

Dimyr spoke back to the Demon:

Welcome Skya
I see that you have enjoyed my food
Now please, make yourself comfortable
In this Morphite which may serve as your home
It is a beautiful piece
In which I have lived for long
And now may be yours
For we may share our comfort

As Dimyr spoke, the beast Skya turned towards the morphite. It crept slowly forward, nudging it with a claw. Skya seemed to consider the stone briefly, then it curled up its wings and launched inside. Dimyr spoke again, but this time not to Skya.

Guardians, Guardians who stand beside me!
Arrest this Demon called Skya!
For He belongs not in our world
And wishes only to harm and destroy
Arrest him in this stone
As he took for a home, shall now be a prison!
Fal’Rou Shakbatt, my favored Guardian
Arrest this Demon Skya!!

And for just a moment Fal’Rou Shakbatt was there, solid as a man, in his ornate armor and shield, holding a mighty sword. Dimyr resisted all temptation to open his eyes as Fal’Rou brought his sword down upon the stone in a single powerful blow, sending the stone flying and shattering the makeshift table. Dimyr heard a mighty curse as the Outsiders fled the Gate, and suddenly all was quiet and empty around him. Dimyr said a silent prayer to his mighty Guardian and opened his eyes.

The stone lay off to the side, resting in the grass. Dimyr picked it up carefully, as it was still radiating a significant amount of heat. The original shape of the morphite was long gone, and in its place was the image of the Demon Skya, indeed a bat shaped imp, his pointed head and beak open in an angry scream. The deep red of the morphite remained, but this was one stone which would not need polishing.

[DimyrKrutchik]

The Gate boiled fiercely in front of Dimyr. Unnatural colors bled from the edges, and shadows belonging to Those Not From Here tried to slip out. Dimyr reached forward tentatively.

“No!”came a loud command from Fal’Rou, who stood abreast. “They are a danger to our world.”

Dimyr recoiled his hand and glanced around. There were already many small flickers of hell light to be seen, numerous and spread as the stars. Dimyr reached out and caught one. It was Skya. Dimyr pocketed him gingerly and snatched another. Bishkabis, who he had encased in an impure jade last Spring. He pocketed him as well and reached for a third.

“Rusc shal far mi bitt coul! Shakar nu bi Dimyr kaw bisk!” It came from the Gate. “Take no more of my brethren! We see you, Dimyr.” Orange and blue shadows strained through numerous small cracks.

Fal’Rou bellowed beside him. “Mya ke lou!” The colors retreated. “Beware, Dimyr, for our being is frail, and those powers are unknown.”

[DimyrKrutchik]

Whoa. Dimyr had to stop sleeping in the circle.

With an ache as from a hangover, Dimyr sat up. Elki had already begun his voyage, but was not yet upon his high throne. Dimyr agreed with his stomache that breakfast should be found, and the sooner the better. Summoning was awful hard work.

He packed his few belongings, patting Skya in his pocket. The fire of the demon could still be felt, and if one allowed his mind to wander, the stone seemed to move on its own. But it was safe and inert. Dimyr erased his circles and other constructs from the valley and poked his head over the ridge. All clear. His summoning place was as if chosen by the Gods.

Within an hour Dimyr was in town and among the locals. The common market was easy to find; Dimyr was not the only soul to wake early in search of food and shiny things. And as Scara Brae was surely the biggest city on this small island, the market had everything one may need. Biscuits, dried meat, and some kind of juice made the best breakfast Dimyr had had in recent memory.

The next task was to sell some of his own wares. Dimyr purchased a plank of wood from a garbage pile, found a place to sit in the large city square, put the plank across his knees, and draped his green and blue Fal’Har cloak on top. Next came his cache of small polished stones. He had nine which could potentially bring a bit of gold. Shiny reds, blues, greens, ambers, and one which was a swirl of purple and silver. Skya remained safe in his pocket.

This part of traveling was an often internally contested point for Dimyr. He believed fully and strongly in Fal’Har; for he spoke often with the Old Ones and Guardians, had caught glimpses of the Ancestors, and saw tangible effects of his communications. And Dimyr knew many stories of his people; certainly not all, yet all the stories in the book and the stars were stored within his mind. But he needed money.

Dimyr didn’t smoke or drink (except for rituals), didn’t use women who didn’t come for free, wore common garments, and had no expensive vices. But all creatures upon Althanas needed money to live, and he was no different. And as a traveler, a day job wasn’t an option. So the selling of shiny stones to wasteful tourists was an acceptable way of making money.

No one was really hurt by it. Sure, the stones weren’t worth anything, but everyone knew that already. Besides, with each stone came a story. Dimyr would, how shall we say, fabricate or exaggerate a story, with relevance to the color and make of stone, that at least referenced or was derived from a story of Fal’Har. So while a tourist may not value the true tale of Fal’Hitchkar educating the young humans in the 12 Tasks of Health and Life, such as washing hands and not eating feces, they certainly appreciated Fal’Hitchkar slaying the 12 Demons Who Threatened Health and Life, while protecting a herd of children, all on his own in a firestorm caused by the terrible Outsiders Grupal and Djede.

Well, the tourists would learn a little of his culture, Dimyr would make enough money to sustain himself, and if the family buying a shiny piece of flint remembered that Fal’Har said to wash your hands or be slain by Demons! then all was well and good. More or less.

Still Dimyr felt a nag of guilt as he sold a smooth, arrowhead shaped piece of graystone to a pair of siblings. As they spent their parent’s hard-earned gold for a reminder of the Arrow of Fal’Qwichk Who Slew Millions of Demons, he smiled and reminded them to be good children, kind to their parents, and to always be honest. At least something he said should be relevant to their lives.

[DimyrKrutchik]

Dimyr had sold just 3 stones before he hit the jackpot. He was about 5’5, nearing 200lbs, and had a bald spot to rival Dimyr’s polished stones. He called himself “Benner from Corone” and was immediately engrossed with the story of Fal’Wedchilk who razed an entire forest to capture the Outsider Froug. Benner from Corone quickly bought the flat sandstone which resembeled the forest Fal’Wedchilk had razed, gobbled up the story of Fal’Binku who used his fame to attract hundreds of women, one of which was the Outsider Pluch in disguise who assassinated Fal’Binku (who apparently looked like a shiny round graphite), and was prepared to have the exploits of Fal’Tuth the Mighty for lunch.

As Dimyr politely but hungrily gobbeled up his turkey and potatoes, Benner from Corone hardly ate, instead feasting himself on Dimyr’s stories. When Dimyr ended the tale of Fal’Tuth and the 8 Outsiders he pushed off of Althanas, he decided to go for the kill.

“Since you’re in Scara Brae, maybe you would like to hear the tale of the founding of this fine city? They will surely tell you different in the museums and halls you visit, but we of Fal’Har have our own understanding of this very city. In fact, I have traveled all this way based on directions in my Book BeeHarKuh, which is as old as man himself. And when I saw this city from a hill in the woods, I knew that it truly was the crown of Fal’Ku.”

“Fal’Ku? The Guardian who tried to warn Fal’Binku of Pluch?”

“The very same, Benner from Corone. Fal’Ku was one of the most dedicated Guardians elected by the Old Ones. He stood his ground true and firm against the hordes of the Outsiders, and because he believed to his very core in the strength granted upon him, he was victorious. Would you like to hear his tale?”

“Yes! Yes, of course I would, please Dimyr. Would you like some more potatoes? Maybe a slice of pie? They have the best in this city!”

“A small piece of pie would certainly do me well, thank you Benner from Corone. Well let’s see.”

Fal’Ku had been chosen, along with his brother Fal’Lu, to guard a camp of hundreds of elderly and sick humans. This was thought of as a less then thrilling job by the other Guardians; perhaps they chose it for Fal’Ku because his faith and righteousness outshone some of them. His brother Fal’Lu assisted faithfully, but did not take his job seriously enough and soon fell ill, taken by the same small Demons as those he guarded. Fal’Ku continued helping and guarding though, and as Elki rose to greet Ikle one morning Fal’Ku’s keen eye caught a shimmer on the horizon. He was unable to wake his ill brother, and so went out to meet the intrusion on his own.

Within moments of stepping outside Fal’Ku knew the visitor was the Outsider Kikau, for once the visitor saw him he summoned an army of Demons as only Kikau could muster and set them to charge Fal’Ku’s camp. The horde was vast and mighty, and Fal’Ku immediately knew he would not survive such a direct attack. He tried once more to rouse Fal’Lu, but it was plain he was on his own. While many, even the mightiest of the Guardians, may have chosen to flee or cry baldy for help, Fal’Ku took up his shield, helm, and sword, and went outside to meet the Demons.

Fal’Ku steeled his shield into the ground before him, lowered the visor of his helm, and braced himself for impact. As the horde of terrible Demons neared, he whispered a prayer to the Old Ones, asking them to give him the strength to protect his charge.

The Old Ones answered promptly to such a true believer. Seeing the strength of Fal’Ku, they granted him a silver crown before his feet. Fal’Ku misinterpreted it as a symbol of thanks which he would take to the grave. But nevertheless he removed his own helm and placed the crown upon his head, even as the hordes came nearer. He steeled himself once again, now sure of death, and as he begun to acknowledge those who would collide with him first, the crown began to grow. Quickly it was as large as himself, and just a moment before the leading Demon, named Skya, came to meet Fal’Ku at full speed, claws drawn, the silver crown sprang to full size, encompassing the camp and all the humans within, including Fal’Ku. The hordes of Demons collided with the silver crown, those in front crushed by those behind. In a minute it was over, with the crushed Demons dissolving to dust, and the remaining Demons retreating in clear defeat. Fal’Ku bravely peered over his crown. He saw the Outsider Kikau, now only meters away, cursing his worthless army of dust. The Demon who lead the charge, Skya, limped over to Kikau, and together they vanished.

[DimyrKrutchik]

“Fal’Ku recovered the silver crown and wore it until his death, which was another matter entirely. And when he died, it fell to the ground from Mizouk, his killer, and landed here. The city walls of Scara Brae are not made of the original silver crown, but they are built on the outline of the silver crown, and are still an homage to those who know. And now you know as well, Benner of Corone.”

“Fantastic! And do you have a stone for this occasion as well?”

“I do, in fact. But this one is not the same as the others.” Dimyr removed the morphite containing Skya from his robe.

Benner from Corone stared in awe at the idol in Dimyr’s hand. “Such beauty, and such horror. It’s exquisite! How can a man have carved such a thing?”

Dimyr smiled appreciatively, ignoring the question. An adequate explanation would do no good.

“May I buy this as well?” Benner from Corone asked. Dimyr let the question hang for a moment, prompting a “Please?” from the tourist.

“Well, I suppose. But it will be a bit more than the other stones.”

“Of course. Certainly. Well, I have more gold. Um…” Benner from Corone pulled his purse out and rummaged through it, all the while unable to remove his eyes from the idol of Skya. He pulled out a handsome handful without looking and dropped it on the table and proferred it. “Will this do?”

Dimyr studied the sum. About 60 or 70 gold. Not bad for a rock found in a tree! He hid his excitement and did his best to look thoughtful. “Mm, well this lunch was rather nice. For a good friend like you, this will do.”

They exchanged properties. Dimyr hid his glee as his purse gained some much needed weight, but Benner from Corone could not mask his emotions. Once Skya touched his hands he seemed to connect deeply to the stone, sharing his life energy and receiving some in return. With a bit of concern, Dimyr insisted to himself that the idol was harmless. It was firmly imprisoned and unable to inflict its will on others. Still, it did seem alive.

By the time Benner from Corone had given Skya a new home within his bag, checked and rechecked the pocket, and had himself a final glimpse of his treasure, Dimyr had finished his fruit juice. He smiled and patted his own treasure, a full and happy belly. As he wondered whether it was time to part ways, the tourist spoke.

“Did you truly carve this yourself?”

The question was too direct; Dimyr couldn’t avoid it without looking like a thief or liar. “Er yes, essentially.”

“But with what tools? It is so smooth and natural and so alive!”

“Well it’s a special carving technique we practice in Fal’Har. One would not want to make an idol with misshapen features and rough corners.”

“I see. How about that Guardian you spoke of, Fal’Tooth? Can you make an idol of him?”

“Fal’Tuth, who destroyed 8 Outsiders on his own? Well, it is against the rule of Fal’Har to make an idol of a Guardian. Stones which represent them are fine, for their stories should be shared, but an idol which looks and feels like them would be a disservice.”

“Well Skya is a demon, right? Didn’t Fal’Tuth kill that Demon Ryshkabar? That battle was fantastic!”

“Yes, it was. And when Ryiskipar was thrown from the tower he smashed into the ground so hard that he left a crater so deep that it sprung a well. Did I mention that the well was so polluted it ran only black sludge which occasionally caught fire? Nearly destroyed an entire village once! Well, I could make an idol of Ryiskipar. But I would need some supplies. And, I must carve in secrecy. It’s a bit of a trade secret, you know.”

[DimyrKrutchik]

Dimyr and Benner from Corone parted ways outside of the restaurant. They had agreed to meet early the following day for breakfast, and the tourist had given Dimyr another 10 gold for carving supplies. Dimyr headed first to the market and, fearing Benner from Corone may be watching him, purchased a thin rod with serrated edges, used to file stone, and a flint. He then dove into the afternoon crowd in an attempt to lose his newest fan, if he was in fact following Dimyr. The man was so curious!

Now Dimyr began on his real shopping list. Blackberries, lavender, red squiffberries, dried Balgar meat, wine, orange and rusk peel, mahr, and assorted burning spices. Small bits of pewter, Firktree ash, Eurian lace, silver and gold wire. A bronze offering table, ceramic figure of a man, green Kip dye, and a claw bone from a Purpur rat. And, found inlaid in an old rotted headboard at Minx Antiques, bought for a bargain with a hairbrush and FoxLaw tin mug, a fist sized Spodumain, elm green at its heart, lime green around, scarred deep with white and pink Quartz and cracked thoroughly by an apprentice smith.

33 gold and 4 hours later, Dimyr found himself gnawing on what he hoped was a cattle leg bathed in harmless red sauce. His supplies weighed heavily in his bag; it hadn’t been this full since the old man in Arkeem had entrusted Dimyr with his collection of gravel.

He wasn’t quite sure how to use all the things he had purchased. Dimyr knew he could summon and capture a beast with much less; he had done so only last night. But most of these things he had seen at the temple in Harkrichem, and he supposed they helped in luring Demons. If they made the task any easier then they would be worth it. Despite all the food crawling through his body, Dimyr was still exhausted from last night’s exercise. And he distinctly remembered learning that one should not do something strenuous two nights in a row. But, did that apply to mental labor, or just physical?

Great Elki had long since gone to rest by the time Dimyr rediscovered his valley in the fields. Dimyr prided himself on the difficulty of finding this spot, and, when he got there, on the thoroughness of cleaning he had done that morning. The valley looked as though it may have once been considered for growing potatos or leeks, but had been abandoned long ago. Dimyr began to clear the brush he had resituated, digging the circles he had packed with dirt, and reconstructing the symbols from bits he had scattered about. After a solid hour of manual labor in the dark, guided only by the dull light of Ikle who seemed to hide in fear amid the Guardians, Dimyr began final preparations for the true work to come.

The bronze offering table went in the center of the circles. On it he placed the Spodumain, and beside which he laid all the edible things he had collected. After a moments consideration, he laid the bone among these as well. Demons were foul creatures, who knew what they would eat? The ceramic figure went in a strategic position among Fal’Rou’s Beih, along with the metals, stones, and cloth. The Gate remained bare as before; no need to attract anyone to that.

Using the newly purchased flint, Dimyr started the smallest fire he could and burned a portion of the spices. Once assured that the fire was small, hidden from any local creatures, and well in control, Dimyr sat himself down in the circle and began to read from his Book. Confidence built. Awareness expanded. His body grew to fill the valley, and his mind soared to the Heavens.

[DimyrKrutchik]

Brah, brah, loo brah,
Brah, brah, loo brah

His voice echoed across the island, men shook in their sleep, rodents fled for their holes. Owls grew silent, and all turned their eyes toward Dimyr.

Brah, may They look upon me
Brah, may They stand beside me
Brah, may They be barred

His call resounded across Althanas. Lords thought of their kingdoms. Priests spoke to their Gods. Great Beasts remembered their respect for those greater. The stars awoke and stepped down from the Heavens.

Outsiders, listen to me now
For I know you always seek to cross the Gate
But the Har is strong
And you may not have the Kuh
I know your young have come through
To wreak mischief upon my land
Show a Child to me
He shall not be harmed
He shall share in my food
And the offerings I have made

The air grew heavy. Dimyr could feel it with his eyes closed and his palms on his thighs; it crept up his sleeves, down the legs of his pants, and amassed on his shoes. He could feel the subtle change from black to deep maroon, the clouding of the stars, and the quivering vibrations of the wind around him. And within it, he could perceive activity. The Gate blazed brighter and brighter still, coming to life in the color of flames. Ikle faded from the Southwest, fleeing to her sibling. A hue of pine green grew off to his side; a small thing, wary in step and unsure in shape. And as the flames of the Gate approached an intensity which worried Dimyr, a silver shape appeared. It reached full height quickly, and as if reacting to Dimyr’s burst of confidence it stayed strong and well defined. It was a shape similar to the one Dimyr had scratched into the ground and given fine gifts to.

With the appearance of the Silver Shape, the Gate dulled. Although only visible within Dimyr’s mind’s eye, it seemed to withdraw with the reluctance of a child. However it did not disappear, but continued in a muddy way.

The green blur which had appeared did not seem to be worried by the Silver Shape. Dimyr watched silently and without movement for he may startle the Beast. It sniffed about, scampering like a squirrel in Autumn. The Beast progressed warily to the bronze table, and after a few tense nibbles, leapt upon it. It fanatically tore straight through the orange and downed the squifferries in one gulp. Only after the demon had satiated its prime hunger did Dimyr speak.

Lo, Young One
Thanks be to you for accepting this meal
For it is of the best food there is
And it pleases one that he may serve
I beg of you, what song may speak of you?

The Beast was startled at first, as if it had thought no one was around. But sensing no harm from Dimyr it spoke in return.

Man, what a creature
Man, who gives away food
Man, who burns his home
Man, who disturbs his Lords
One as you could never serve me
For I am Kskath the Quick
And my mind leads my tail
Which none could give chase

Dimyr hesitated at first. He had not known that a Beast could speak the word of Man so clearly. Could they be immersed in this modern world? But he could not show surprise.

Kskath the Quick
Wise as you are
Then you must know
That it please me to serve, but not to one such as you
But rather do I serve the Gods
Who have sent me these blessings
The best gifts of all
And I thank you for accepting this meal
Because now the essence of goodness is inside of you
So that you may be commanded from both sides
Fal’Rou Shakbatt, Guardian of I,
Please send this Beast called Kskath the Sick
Into his new home
Kskath, I command you!
Enter the Ore!

And the Silver Shape glided over. Kskath perched on his hind quartes in horror, knowing he was caught. His head swung desperately, unable to run as fate drew near. He did the one thing he could do. He spoke.

[DimyrKrutchik]

Beloukski! I have been trapped!
A wicked man has gotten me
He teased me with riches
the likes I never knew

He carries naught rope or cuff
But speaks words that twist
This terrible son of man
Will leash me as a pup!
Beloukski! I have been trapped!
Free me, true master!

Dimyr motioned to Fal’Rou.

Fal’Rou, true and strong
You know who’s speech is spun
Seal this Demon in the stone
One less evil in our world

Fal’Rou glided over to the Demon Kskath, who was frozen to the spot under Fal’Rou’s confident air. The ground began to rumble. Dimyr focused on Kskath, still with eyes shut, trying to perceive if it was him who caused the rumble. But as the ground shook again, Dimyr knew it was not; the shaking was coming from the Gate. Fal’Rou continued forward, as if unaware of the shuddering of the ground. Dimyr racked his brain; what was happening? Were the Ancient Ones responding to Kskath’s call? Surely they would pay no heed to such a pathetic beast. Should he send Fal’Rou to guard the Gate? But then he might lose Kskath, and who knows what would happen if he was let loose and angry. Could…

“What in the world?”

Everything stopped. Those words were distinctly not of mystical origin. Dimyr’s head spun towards the sound and he opened his eyes. And in that moment, before he could even adjust to the dim light of the night, his concentration lapsed. He heard Kskath leap from the bronze altar. He let out a high scream and soared through the air toward’s Dimyr.

Dimyr threw himself backwards, knowing that it would not matter. He landed on his back and all the Heavens stood before him, clear and crisp in the night. A silver beam lanced through the air just above him, thin as a twig, but true as steel. Another scream came before him, and Dimyr chanced a glance back towards the altar.

Kskath the Quick hung on the beam, pierced through the shoulder. He struggled, twisting and contorting himself like a gymnast. Following the beam backwards, Dimyr could see that it originated in a smooth silver ball which must have been Fal’Rou Shakbatt.

A slide of loose ground reminded Dimyr that he was not alone. He fumbled for his knife, but before he could find it he realized that it was Benner from Corone who slid haphazardly into the valley.

“Dimyr!” he called, but he was thrown to his feet by another shudder of the ground.

Dimyr rolled out from under the beam which still pierced the air. The three stones which made up the gate jumped with each shudder of the ground, and were now wobbling precariously in formation. The air around them seemed to glow both orange and blue simultaneously.
“Fal’Rou! The Gate is coming loose! What’s happening?”

The silver orb seemed to consider for a moment. Then the beam separated from the orb and contracted to a ring, still going through Kskath’s shoulder and causing him clear pain. At once Kskath and his ring toppled to the ground and he lay there, unable to move beneath his binding chain. The orb moved between Dimyr and the Gate as it shuddered again, now less severely, but with greater focus. The topmost stone leapt up and came back down, striking it’s supporters and falling to the side.

Now the air around the Gate grew brighter and filled with dancing lights. Benner from Corone appeared at Dimyr’s side.

“Is this, um, normal for the carving?”

“Not quite. We must be ware.”

The lights solidified and began to form a shape. It seemed to be many things at once. A pair of rings crossed with each other. A pyramid with a hollow center. A face, upside down and with far too many nostrils. Then, as it settled, a clearer image of a complex system of tubes took form. One came forth like a trumpet, or the needle mouth of a biting bug.

“Grrrrzak aff kalusk bi-kar Jya!” it spit loudly and fiercely at the collective. “Kskath the Quick is mine! How dare you sons of men to take what is mine! How dare you to stand before me! How dare you to not do ever as I command! Dimyr! Fall to your death so that your penance may begin!”

Dimyr stood in what may have appeared to be a courageous stance, but was truly the frozen state of pure fear. It knew his name!!

[DimyrKrutchik]

The silver orb of Fal’Rou reacted quickly. It inserted itself between Dimyr and the invader even as the first sparks began to fly.

To Benner from Corone, the battle was far too rapid to comprehend. It reminded him of the fireworks he had witnessed in Abjaiyr; dazzlingly and beautiful but simultaneously deadly and happening much too close to his face. Dimyr also knew little of what happened before his eyes, but he could sense the strikes as he had sensed the Gods before.

The invader had begun by flinging darts at Dimyr, which Fal’Rou blocked as one might catch arrows in a shield. Fal’Rou then expanded himself to act as a wall as the invader hurled a more massive array of bolts at the two men. In return, Fal’Rou sent out several of the beams he had used on Kskath. The invader avoided the first few, but then began to catch them in his tubes and redirect them outward. Fal’Rou bent several of the penetrating beams into rings; a few were successful and seemed to weigh down the invader. The invader seemed to falter for a moment, but then shook mightily and the rings melted away. It then glowed brighter and brighter, sapping energy from Fal’Rou, who grew cold and still.

Benner from Corone may have seen little of that, but he did see the silver orb grow pale and fall to the ground. He may have been a perpetual tourist, but he was not ignorant. “Hey, Outsider! Yeah, that’s right, you’re an Outsider, aren’t you? You looking for this?” He brought the idol of Skya out from his pocket. Even he could feel the invader’s attention immediately shift to him. “Yeah, you want it? Here, take it, and get the heck out of here!” Benner from Corone threw his best pitch at the invader. The idol sailed right through it and crashed down on the other side of the valley. It must have struck a rock and cracked, for the explosion that followed could have originated from nowhere else.

A ball of unearthly red flame erupted from behind the invader. Dimyr and Benner from Corone threw themselves to the ground, but Dimyr still caught a glimpse of a red bird-sized ember fly out from the fireball and shoot around the valley. It seemed to leap from stick to grass to rock and back, and everything it touched burst into flames. After no more than a few seconds the ember of Skya sat down in front of the invader. Dimyr remained still, praying for invisibility, as the invader and Skya conversed. Suddenly the ring holding Kskath was dissolved, and he too shot over to the invader. And then they were gone.

Dimyr rose shakily to his feet. The night was still, save for the small flames randomly assorted in his valley. The silver orb of Fal’Rou rested on the ground a meter away from Dimyr; he rushed over to it. It was cool, but still had some warmth. Dimyr spoke silently to Fal’Rou.

“Thank you for saving us. You truly are a Guardian of great strength.”

“Not enough, it seems. It has been far too long since I have been made to act suchly. You must not demand so much so quickly. Also, take heed of these events. The power of the Gods is far beyond your experience. All of mankind is very lucky that Beloukski decided to leave. Be careful, Dimyr, be very careful. I shall return to my place now, but I will listen when you call.”

[DimyrKrutchik]

The silver orb grew dimmer until it, too, vanished into the night.

Dimyr fell back onto his rear and stared at the remains of his circle. Suprisingly, little was destroyed. The battle of the Gods had had no effect on the ground; even the objects on the table remained in their place! The fires caused by Kskath were dying down. Dimyr picked up the Spodumain and toyed with it while Benner from Corone sat down next to him.

“So I guess you’ll be wanting your money back?”

The tourist seemed shocked. “Heck no! That was amazing! Much more exciting than any rock could ever be, no offense. I would have paid another 15 gold had I known I was in for such a treat! Tell me though, er, what exactly happened?”

“Well, the silver orb was my Guardian, Fal’Rou Shakbatt. Remember him? And the thing with all the pipes was an Outsider named Beloukski…”

The sun had come up by the time Benner from Corone had had his fill of questions and answers. Dimyr collected his things, and together they erased all traces of the summoning circle. In the daylight it was clear that the Gods had had no effect on any of the ground or the objects. It seemed that their powers could only affect each other, although they were both pretty sure that Beloukski’s attacks would have caused them a great deal of pain. They also agreed that Dimyr must continue his studies if he ever hoped to have any type of control over such an event. Far too much was at stake for such powers to be let loose without a rein. And Fal’Rou probably wouldn’t appreciate the beating he had taken.

Dimyr suggested a breakfast of eggs and bread, but as the two neared town Benner from Corone sadly admitted that they must part ways.

“Well Scara Brae sure has been nice, but my family and I must continue our travels. We only have 3 weeks before Jinka’s classes began again in Luxor, and Grandpa sure does get tired of riding in wagons. Besides, I think my wife will be having a word with me about disappearing last night. We are off to Minkmink; ever been?”

“No, I haven’t, but I wish you the best. Oh, here, I found this while I was cleaning.” Dimyr handed him a handful of red shards. “It’s pieces of the morphite Skya was trapped in. Maybe you could keep some of them as a reminder.”

“Thanks! Look at that!” Benner from Corone pocketed them cheerfully. “Don’t you worry, I won’t be forgetting about Fal’Roo or Skiya any time soon. I’m writing it all down in my journal! Thanks for the adventure Dimyr, I’ll be seeing you!” And with that, he left.

Dimyr headed over to Barker’s Breads. In his travels he had found that a good roll of bread and butter with a side of fried meat was a good a way as any to fill the emptiness, both in his stomach and in his heart. But that was what it meant to be a traveler. He would teach others as he learned himself, and always continue his search for understanding. Someday the world would make sense.

In the meantime he was to collect the pieces as he was able. The tale he had told Benner from Corone, concerning the founding of Scara Brae, was mostly true, save for any involvement the pitiful Demon Skya may have had. Of course the inhabitants, museum, tourist industry, even Queen Valeena Herself would never admit such a thing. The religion of Fal’Har was entirely left out of any place of proper information, as was the case in most cities.

But things as great as this could never be truly forgotten. Yesterday, while shopping, Dimyr had seen signs of Fal’Har worship. A symbol carved on a tree, or a small gate painted on a brick wall. And the stars told no lies; Mizouk was above, glaring down on the crown of his fallen victim. There was still Fal’Har worship here, and where there were priests, there was knowledge. Dimyr finished his breakfast and fastened his green and blue Fal’Har robe on. Surely that would speed up discovery.

He paid for his meal and left. Great Elki was high in the sky now, and Dimyr was tired and unwashed, but his work in Scara Brae had just begun.


(Rewards requested: 1. The knowledge that at least some Demons are drawn to oranges and red squiffberries. This is not a skill or anything, just a new piece of understanding of Fal’Har. 2. A few unidentified gold coins that even if melted weren't worth much. 3. An appropriate sum of gold.)

[Saxon]

STORY

Continuity - 5/10 - Although I understood the basic plot of this story, there wasn't much else for me to take away from this quest. There were a lot of obscure and vague references to Gods and spirits to a religion I have never even heard of, and while I get this may have been a story to get people introduced to your character and some of the facets of his religion, there really wasn't enough details provided outside of basic names and what those demons or Gods did for me to really get the whole picture here.

Setting - 6/10 - The setting was described vaguely and was often used as a backdrop rather then a setting that is immersive. It could've used a lot more description and emphasis on your surroundings rather then the basic information to say "I am over at a tavern." and "Now I'm in a valley fighting demons."

Pacing - 6/10 -

CHARACTER

Dialogue - 7/10 - While the dialogue wasn't bad, it wasn't really too great either because a lot of it seemed to border on being bland and uninventive. Try to be more creative and adventurous with your characters and give them a mind and personality of their own.

Action - 6/10 -

Persona - 6/10 - What I learned about Dimyr in this quest is that he collects rocks, sells them and teaches people about his religion and basic hyigene. There wasn't much else. Remember that your characters are people too, and people have flaws, personalities and characteristics of their own that make them interesting to read about. Anybody can collect rocks with demons trapped in them, but what does that really say about Dimyr? Is it his only source of income? Why does he do it? Why is he a priest who collects and sells rocks instead of trying to find a flock to preach to?

Try and answer these questions for yourself and look at giving Dimyr and the rest of your cast more room for growth by giving them personalities and treating them as people rather than cardboard cutouts, which wasn't necessarily the case here but you're not that far off.

WRITING STYLE

Mechanics - 8/10 - There were a few spelling errors here and there, but nothing I'm going to lose sleep over. Try to watch listing your numbers out because I saw a lot of this in your thread; "I have 3 rocks, I need to sell 2 or else I'm going to starve to death under the freeway." Instead, write them out like "I have four rocks and I'm going to chuck two of them at the starving ethiopian boy." The rule of thumb is that you should be spelling out all of your numbers unless they are statistics, dates or bigger than two or four words.

Forty is more sauve than 40, but one-hundred-thousand-and-sixty-eight is much too much. Get it?

Technique - 6/10 - My impression is that this entire story about the Gods, what they did, and the rocks was something Dimyr was telling to Benner from Corone. While it could've potentially made for a good exercise in the use of frame stories, I don't think it was executed very well. A for effort, D for execution.

Don't let that get you down, though. Some of the most interesting stories are the ones that challenge a reader to look at a story in a different way rather then in a sequence of events that border on following a pattern of a, b, and c. Just work on putting more focus in understanding of some of the more vague details in your story, and things like this will really shine in the future.

Clarity - 5/10 - I found much of this quest to be very hard to understand with a lot of the information that was presented because it was often vague or hard to understand. Part of writing a story is drawing connections to characters and the events that happen to them rather than just dumping them out and leaving them for me and other readers to sort out. You'll get a lot more points in clarity provided that I and others can get a clear understanding of what you're trying to talk about, which was the biggest problem with this thread.

Wild Card - 6/10 - Oh my God. Broken paragraphs! And I didn't get you anything! Aww, you shouldn't have. ;)

TOTAL: 61/100

You receive 700 EXP and 150 GP!

Your spoils are approved.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and Gp added!