Saturday, March 06, 2010

New Members

03/06/2010

I still get people registering for this site, but the ridiculous amount of spambots also applying for membership makes it nearly impossible to figure out who is a genuine person whose membership I should activate.

If you wish to be able to join in on the commenting, it behooves you to email me when you register. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just let me know you’re an actual human being with an interest in the site.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Still Here, Still Playing

01/21/2010

Still very little time or opportunity to write for either Dhenar.com or Tehir.net, so hopefully my contributions to date are enough to inspire some excellent backgrounds and RP for everyone. Certainly, my (relatively) recent Dhe’nar horror story was received well, if nothing else.

Anyone who wishes to contact me can still do so via , as I don’t plan on stopping playing anytime soon - I’m just taking a hiatus from adding new info to my cultural websites.

Saturday, August 08, 2009

Chains

08/08/2009

The following was my entry for the Dark Elf cultural horror story competition for the Convocation of Coraesine Field event.

----------------------

I am often asked, by those unfamiliar with this story, whether it is true. The answer is yes, it is true, as all such tales are, whether or not the events in them ever happened.

This is a tale from Before. Before Sharath, before the Conflagration that bore Sharath, and before the Fall that bore the Conflagration. In this time, the Unbound were still our allies, and the Keening Spire had not yet begun to weep. The First Born dwelled within the City, and within the City dwelled Varen.

Varen was young, as his people reckon age, merely a few years removed from the completion of his Trials, and now apprenticed as a carnifex, one who renders the dead into their useful components, and discards only the inutile portions as carrion.

This was a valued profession, as resources in the far south are few, and there is too much of worth even in the deceased to allow it to rot in the soil or in the stomach of scavengers. More than merely necessary, though, it was a sought-after apprenticeship, as who can gain Ascension when one is bound to one’s fleeting mortality? The carnifex, more so than even a veteran of the warrior societies, was inured to the flesh, to sentimentality, for they had no choice but to become so.

It was a role perfectly suited to Varen. Nothing valuable escaped his keen eye, and no waste was countenanced by his keen hands and the consummate skill with which he wielded the blades, saws, and mills of his profession. The Masters of his art looked upon his work with quiet approval, and merely a year into his apprenticeship, he was granted the right to work without the supervision of the the Elders.

One morning, he pulled back the canvas covering the body before him, and for the first time in the commission of his duties, Varen paused.

Before him lay Anilasa, who had been born nearly to the moment he had, a rare occurrence amongst the people, whose children are few and far between. They had entered the Trials simultaneously, passed them effortlessly, and she had possessed skill in her arts to equal his, excepting that hers lay in the wielding of blades against the living rather than the dead.

They had admired each other greatly - too much, perhaps, but such pride was common in the young, and often faded on its own as wisdom grew. It was assumed by those who observed such things that they would one day petition for and be granted procreative rights, as the union of such blood could only strengthen the First Born.

Her patrol had carried her into the city at daybreak, and had delivered her immediately to the carnifex, for she had been slain by one of the Nameless Children, from whose mortal wounds no liturgy of resurrection could offer solace.

Varen attempted to steel himself and begin the rites of incision, to no avail. He forced himself through all the disciplinary mantras, yet will and focus fled from him like smoke.

In the end, he put the corpse aside, and called upon his Master. He requested leave, in order to meditate more fully upon his duty, and it was granted. Such a thing was not uncommon when a carnifex first worked upon one he was familiar with. As was usual in these cases, Anilasa’s flesh would be preserved until Varen’s return, so that he could prove his discipline when next he wielded his blades.

Returning home, Varen contemplated his next course of action. In his labors, he had wrested many secrets from the dead. He had learned of an anchorite who had once touched the power of Fash’lo’nae, and, resonating with terrible understanding, had left the city for a life of isolation in order to keep his brethren safe. Torn halfway between mortality and Ascendancy, he had become a conduit of dangerous and forbidden knowledge.

Before the horizon had lit, Varen had begun his journey.

The anchorite had foretold his arrival, and what it would mean, and attempted to ward his visitor from his home. Varen, however, knew the Words of Breaking, and was not delayed.

At first, the hermit resisted questioning, for he knew the answers, and the danger within them. Varen, however, knew the Words of Compulsion, and thus the anchorite had no choice but to speak.

He told Varen that the only recourse was to forge a pact with one of the Adversaries, for they held a compact with the Children, and only they could bargain for the souls they kept from the Ebon Gate. Even then, he warned, there would be a price, for none of their race serve others without first serving themselves.

And, in this instance, he told Varen, only Oleani could assist him.

Varen recoiled at that name, but quickly recovered his composure. He demanded to know why it must be Her. Of the Adversaries, few were as dangerous, as eager to bind the First Born to their flesh, to animal instinct, never to Ascend.

The anchorite held Varen’s gaze, and explained that none would help a mortal who did not hold something of value to them, and what Varen held in him would slake none of their thirsts but Hers.

He told Varen to remember, that her power does not bind us. Her danger lies in seducing us into binding ourselves. That is why, should you succeed in making this pact, Anilasa will live once more, but you must never touch her again. Not once, no matter how lightly, no matter how briefly.

Varen accepted this, thinking it a small price to pay for her return.

The hermit gave him instructions on how to walk the secret ways that led to her realm, and Varen committed them to memory.

He convinced himself that this was needed, that to do otherwise would be robbing his people of her talents, that her children would be strong, even if they could not be his as well. Indeed, with as few children as are delivered to the First Born, could they even afford a loss such as this? If he must feign personal desire to convince Oleani to assist him, then that is what he would do.

And the easiest lies to believe are those one tells oneself.

Varen could not say how long the journey lasted nor how far he wandered, for the path he trod was as much spirit as dross. The passage of the moon and sun soon gave way to a grey empyrean, from which a vague glow emanated, though no celestial body could be seen. Finally, upon cresting the lip of a vast crater that had punctured the deep red stone of the wasteland, he saw that he had arrived.

Before him stood the enemy’s citadel, a misshapen thing, a cyclopean tumor erupting from the landscape. As he looked upon it from his vantage, he could see the outer walls flex and strain at points, as if something enormous were held within, testing the resilience of its prison.

He willed himself to move forward, with each step having to remind himself of his purpose for doing so. The closer to the citadel, the more his eyes picked up on its methodical beating, and the shrill keen it emitted, sounding like nothing less than a legion of discordant birth cries.

There was no entryway, merely a smooth outer skin. As he lifted his hand to touch it, a tear formed in the wall and folded back on itself, allowing him ingress. Stepping inside, the membrane sealed itself behind him.

The interior struck him with an oppressive humidity. No surface escaped the omnipresent moisture, and only the odd texture of the floor allowed him to walk upright. Ahead, more walls parted, beckoning him onwards.

In the shadows writhed forms not meant to be seen by the eye, and within the translucent walls themselves pulsed arcane fluids. From the unseen ceiling hung glistening amniotic sacs, ceaselessly disgorging unidentifiable creatures, which would fall to the ground and quickly scuttle out of sight.

At last, the path opened onto what could only be an audience chamber. Cavernous, it receded into blackness, with only the area immediately surrounding him illuminated by the sourceless sanguine glow. Ahead sat a dais of sorts, polished ivory, rising from the ground as if grown there. Atop it, flanking either edge, were two demons, identical in almost every aspect of appearance and demeanor, including the innumerable thorns that burst from their skin. The sole exception was their eyes. Though both wielded an intense blue gaze, the eyes of one were acutely sorrowful, from which an unending stream of tears flowed, while those of the other were manic, crazed to the limits of sanity in their apparent joy.

A voice, seductive, yet mocking, rose from all around Varen, welcoming the First Born to her sanctum.

From obscurity, a form rose from the floor between the two monstrous attendants, seeming to somehow...unfold in front of him. Her tall form dwarfed those beside her, and was both wondrous and terrible to behold. Her features were exquisite and her flawless skin was faintly luminous, exposed as it was in its entirety, but her movements seemed wrong to him, almost disjointed.

Though he had never seen her incarnate before, Varen instinctively knew that he now addressed Oleani herself.

The Adversary spoke, and though she stood before him now, the words once more reverberated from his surroundings. She demanded to know why he had approached her, as the First Born rarely parleyed with her people.

He explained in great detail why he had sought this audience. As he spoke of Anilasa, he began with his usual reserve, but as he continued, he found restraint harder and harder to achieve. Words flowed from his mouth, effusive in their praise for his dead friend, recalling details about her he had not even realized he remembered. And still he continued, until he realized that he had lost control of his own actions, the fervency of his appeal providing its own momentum. He could feel himself weakening, as the flame of his desire was stoked and fanned until it filled him to bursting, even as it was being siphoned from him.

The more he spoke, the more Oleani’s smile widened, until she was wearing a rictus that nearly split her face in two. As his energy waned, hers waxed, and her luminosity increased exponentially.

It was then, on the verge of collapse, that he could see the truth of what stood before him. Now illuminated, the twisted cords that extended from her into the darkness above were finally visible. These myriad, viscous funiculi supported her body, and twitched and spasmed for every motion she made.

This was not Oleani, but merely a marionette of sorts, an organ designed specifically to communicate with lesser beings. And it was then that he realized.

He was not standing before Oleani, but within her.

The power, the monstrosity of this Adversary struck him fully then, bringing him an understanding of her nature that decades of study had not, and indeed could not have. The shock of this revelation proved to be precisely the catalyst he needed to arrest his frenzied monologue, and he was able to finally reassert dominance over his own heart and mind.

As his breath returned, he asked what she had done to him. The voice once again resounded through the chamber, telling him that, in fact, it had done nothing at all, that it did not create desire, merely elicited what was already there.

Varen was incredulous, convinced that she had been controlling his thoughts and emotions. Her effigy, however, merely looked upon him, bemusement painted across its features.

Her voice informed him that the payment had been acceptable, that the deal would now be struck.

Her two most loyal minions, the twin demons Loss and Anathema, known in the Old Tongue as Laethe and Voaris, approached, moving in perfect synchronicity. Each gripped his forearm, then twisted to expose his wrist. In unison, they each took one talon and incised two intersecting circles into his flesh. As blood welled, they both leaned forward and pressed their lips against the mark, the skin sealing beneath the warmth of their touch. And though the laceration was gone, Varen could still feel it, as if instead of healing, the wound had merely sunk beneath his skin, like a predator, lurking.

And Oleani’s carnal puppet spoke one final time, telling him that the pact was made, and he was free to go.

As he left the citadel, he passed an area he had not seen on the way in. Through the walls, he could see a row of Her servitors, squat and bestial, toiling over countless anvils. Their hammers rose and fell rhythmically, and Varen could see that each was forging a single link in an immense iron chain. As he strode by the doorway, the thralls lifted their heads, unceasing in their labor, and followed him with their vacant eyesockets, their labored breath drawn hungrily through their leering grins.

The invisible mark beneath Varen’s wrist throbbed, and his steps, already hurried, quickened even more until he stood beneath the sun once again.

The fugue that gripped him on the journey towards the Adversary’s bastion also gripped his mind on the journey back. By the time he approached the City again, he was not entirely sure that his wanderings had not been imagined.

However, the news awaiting him upon his return belied the phantasmagoric nature of his travels, for Anilasa was alive once more.

Rarely does a body in queue for the carnifex rise of its own accord, and never had a victim of the Nameless Children done so, and thus she was studied for signs of undeath, possession, and any number of conditions that might explain her impossible vitality. Their inquiries uncovered nothing sinister, however.

On the chance that they had missed something, she was kept from her former patrols, for both her and their safety. As the one most familiar with her, Varen was instructed to stay close to her and observe, to watch for any sign that she was not who she once was. She would be assigned as his assistant until such time as she was deemed uncorrupted. If any suspected he was complicit in her new condition, lack of evidence kept them silent.

Her new proximity did not concern him overmuch. After all, he had not forgotten the anchorite’s warning, and the taboo itself was simple enough. He was pleased simply to have her near again.

That he even felt such pleasure was the first sign of his erosion.

Varen learned quickly that self-control was far easier to achieve when temptation was not at arm’s length. What was simple at first became increasingly difficult. Days turned to weeks turned to months, until every moment near her felt to him like an eon.

He recalled every word of the effusive praise for Anilasa that had poured from him in his audience with Oleani, and this alone was challenging to wrestle with, but it was as nothing next to his realization that even that mania had failed to compare to the reality of the woman herself.

When Anilasa’s subtle attentions made it clear that she likely felt towards him as he did her, every second Varen maintained his facade of detachment became an eternity of torture.

His illusion of discipline evaporated before him the more fervently he tried to cling to it.

Even sleep no longer offered respite. Everything forbidden by day raced through his dreams, and he would wake in the morning no less tormented, a dull throb in his wrist.

He understood now, only too late, that he had never truly been tested. He had always been too good, and so every task set before him had always been too easy. Despite his fearsome intelligence and immaculate skill, his will remained stunted and feeble.

And without a foundation of will, no other virtue could stand for long.

When one day she whispered her true feelings towards him, and how long she had held them, the last ragged fragments of his resolve could not make even the pretense of resistance.

As he reached to Anilasa and pulled her into his embrace, he found it a relief to finally surrender.

Moments later, one of the masters found himself walking by the cutting room. As he was passing the door he heard from behind it an ululation, soft at first, then rising in pitch, and then suddenly punctuated by the harsh sound of lashing metal. He immediately pulled the door open.

And he saw them, writhing forms sewn together by rough links of iron, as if by a giant needle threaded through their flesh, their grotesque moans an amalgam of both ecstasy and agony. He had but a moment to comprehend the perverse tableau before the chains pulled taut, and the two-now-one were dragged forever into the dark.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Been A While Since The Last Update

01/23/2009

Obviously, the Sodality never materialized as a functional MHO, which, frankly, is fine with me, since dealing with one has never seemed particularly interesting. I have no idea what Telare’s thoughts on the matter are, since I’ve spoken to him neither in or out of character since the night of the first meeting.

In any case, I still consider the Sodality to exist, just not as an official player-run organization, and I still consider my Dhe’nar character to be a member. It’s simply part of his RP now instead of some time-consuming bureaucratic hassle.

I have new articles planned for this site, but free time is not as plentiful as it once was, so the articles will come when they come.

Some of that free time will be devoted to WordSmith projects, though, once they materialize.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

The Sodality of Ascension

07/20/2008

The Sodality of Ascension is a new Dhe’nar-founded MHO. I’ve chosen to offer it some support for the time being, to see whether it will become an organization my character(s) have any interest in being a part of.

It recently held its first meeting, during which Telare gave an introductory speech offering his take on the organization. His take, however, differs greatly from Ilorn’s. Had I had my character deliver the introductory talk, it would have consisted of this:

The Sodality is an organization dedicated to the research and collection of information regarding Ascension.

And that would have been it.

It would have made for a short meeting, perhaps, but Ilorn isn’t one for flowery words. You’ll never hear the phrase “The Way” leave his mouth, as he has no use for pontificating on vague generalities, and you’ll never hear him refer to anyone as “Brother”, unless it refers to his actual half-brother, Qalan. Ilorn deals in specifics, not broad philosophical strokes, and he has no use for high-minded ideals that have no practical application, nor does he have any patience for those who espouse them.

He certainly wouldn’t care who chooses to join the Sodality, as long as they offer something useful to the group. Not counting half-Arkati such as Leya and Voln, non-Dhe’nar have produced at least four Ascendants - The Huntress, Arachne, Kuon, and Tilamaire - so it’s clear there’s something to be learned in these lands, even from non-Elven folk.

If attendants wish to expand their knowledge of Dhe’nari culture, he could be persuaded to speak of what he knows during future meetings, but he is not a Sharathian Cultural Attache, and shouldn’t be expected to operate in that role.

That said, we’ll see where the group goes from here. As far as I know, a second meeting has yet to be scheduled, and I have no idea whether anyone has expressed an interest in joining.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Dhe’nari Bards

08/10/2007

I once gave a brief overview of the Dhe’nari bard here:

“The Dhe’nar bard is the lorekeeper of his people. It is the bard’s job to be the living history of the Dhe’nar, memorizing every last bit of history, genealogy, and mythology of the First Born. Their training lasts longer than that of any other Dhe’nar profession, as they must commit to memory every detail of a culture that has existed for 80,000 years. Utilizing a vast variety of mnemonic devices to retain all this knowledge, the Dhe’nar Lorekeepers claim to be the first of the mortal races to have discovered the magic resident within the spoken word. However, not all Dhe’nari bards become Lorekeepers. Those who seek combat can find themselves valued in the Warrior Caste, and those who prefer to research the nature of their sound magic can find a role with the Warlock caste as well.”

I would like to expand upon this now, as the Lorekeeper I mentioned then is but one role of many.

Though those of other nations choose to collectively refer to those that wield sound magic as entertainers, or “bards”, those of the Dhe’nar rarely share a common title, preferring to be known by their individual roles within their castes. Few, if any, are entertainers, as the Common term implies. Any of them may be a Lorekeeper, a Sonomancer, one of the Discordant, and so on.

It is, of course, their particular approach to magic, their belief in the raw power of sound, that truly unites the Dhe’nari “bards”, while simultaneous setting them apart from their brethren. Specifically, most believe that sound itself is the underlying foundation of all magic, and not only that, but creation itself, and it is through the manipulation of sound that they seek Ascension.

As the theory goes, everything that exists is tied to a certain sound, a certain harmony, known as its resonance. This resonance contains determines the object’s nature, and as something changes, so does its “sound”. Conversely, by changing something’s resonance, the object itself then changes.

These two elements form the basis of Dhe’nari theories of sound magic. The ability to “read” the information in an object’s resonance forms the basis of the “loresinging” ability, while the ability to change the resonance in oneself, another, or one’s surroundings, essentially “rewriting” them, forms the basis of bardic “spells”. Thus their “songs” are truly a method of creating an informational construct, then forcing it on the world by imposing its harmonics over those that existed previously. Once the “bard” ceases to transmit sounds, local reality reasserts itself once more.

Theoretically, one could change the very world, or the stars, or even creation itself, if one had the proper harmonics, and a powerful enough delivery system.

The Sonomancers believe that resonance is the true lynchpin underlying all magics, from those of the Drakes to the lowliest savage hedge wizard. Other orders of magicians tend to dispute this, naturally, though none have, as of yet, disproven it.

Although many different types of Dhe’nari bard exist, beyond the three I mentioned above, one is probably more likely to encounter a Sonomancer (pure sound mages, typically members of the Warlock Caste) or a member of the Discordant (a military order that applies destructive harmonics to its physical combat skills, members of the Warrior Caste).

The Lorekeepers are not often seen outside Sharath, as they have effectively turned themselves into living libraries. By changing their resonance bit by bit over many long years, and reinforcing every piece of information they impose on their minds, they become repositories of vast amounts of Dhe’nari lore, from History to Genealogy (very important in a society that suffered a catastrophic population loss, and wishes to avoid inbreeding) to Research, and so on. The eldest and most advanced Lorekeepers hold the combined knowledge of tens of thousands of years of Dhe’nar culture in their heads, dispensing such information as their people need it. The reasons one may never encounter such individuals outside Sharath are twofold, and may already be obvious to the reader.

For one, the value of such an individual to Dhe’nar society cannot be overstated, and leaving Sharath always comes with risk. And secondly, the most advanced Lorekeepers have sacrificed much for their abilities, and can easily find it difficult to interact on a normal basis with the mundane world.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Dhe’nar Visual Art and the Tsara

08/01/2007

As is their nature, the Dhe’nar rarely engage in tasks for which there is no clear tangible, practical benefit. So it is with what passes for Dhe’nari art. The concept of “art for art’s sake” is not unknown amongst the First Born, but it is generally regarded as a waste of time. This is not to say that the Dhe’nar do not produce art, but rather that when they do so, there is always more to it than mere aesthetics.

Take, for example, Dhenari painting and sculpting. While a superficial look at the products of such may seem no different than that of other cultures, the Worker Caste, over the millenia, has devised a method of delivering a great deal of information through subtleties in the work. In this way, something such as a wall frieze can deliver a lesson, or even a full treatise, regarding important elements of Dhe’nar society.

An element of this “visual code” is the tsara - a series of hand gestures each of which possesses its own unique meaning based on finger and wrist position. It is rare indeed to find a representation of a humanoid in Dhe’nari art that is not performing a tsara of some sort.

Of course, as Dhe’nar are educated in the meaning of the tsara as part of the extensive training in their youths, many Dhe’nar use the tsara while communing amongst themselves as well. Use of the tsara is not a true “sign language” in that it does not replicate the full range of their spoken tongues. It is, however, useful in delivering discrete social and philosophical concepts, and thus can be used to supplement verbal communication, if so desired.

Examples of a few tsara and their meanings follow.

(This list is by no means comprehensive, and is merely provided as a small sample of possibilities. I was originally going to illustrate the hand positions, but felt that was probably irrelevant for a text based game and so translated them into Act commands instead.):

Agreement - One expresses one’s agreement with another. Often used while the issue one agrees with is being spoken, so that one can express his opinion immediately without having to verbally interrupt.
(XXXX extends the fingers of his right hand and grasps his thumb with his left)

Arkati - One or related to one
(XXXX forms a loose fist)

Ascendant - Used when discussing an Ascendant, in combination with Greeting if actually meeting one
(XXXX touches his ring finger to his thumb)

Ascension - Used when discussing a topic relevant to Ascension
(XXXX touches his index finger to his thumb)

Asceticism - One is eschewing material reward
(XXXX touches his ring finger to his palm while extending the others)

Bond - Signifies a bond with another, be it mental, physical, or spiritual
(XXXX folds his ring and little fingers, while extending the others)

Caste: One signs one’s own caste, never another’s

Temple
(XXXX extends his arm downwards, palm facing inwards)

Warlock
(XXXX extends his arm downwards, palm facing right)

Warrior
(XXXX extends his arm downwards, palm facing left)

Worker
(XXXX extends his arm downwards, palm facing outwards)

Comprehension - One understands the instructions given or the discussion at hand
(XXXX touches his index fingers together)

Disagreement - One expresses one’s disagreement with another. Used in the same manner as Agreement.
(XXXX extends the fingers of his left hand and grasps his thumb with his right)

Family - Signifies a blood relation with another
(XXXX touches his middle finger to his thumb)

Greeting - Less formal than a full bow, typically combined with a nod
(XXXX extends his little and index fingers, folding the others across his palm)

Instruction (request)
(XXXX turns his palm downwards, and folds his thumb across it)

Instruction (offer)
(XXXX turns his palm upwards, and folds his thumb across it)

Knowledge - One has knowledge of a given subject that one wishes to impart
(XXXX crooks his index finger)

Protection (requesting)
(XXXX turns his palm inwards, fingers extended)

Protection (offering)
(XXXX turns his palm outwards, fingers extended)

Warning - One is signaling another to take caution
(XXXX angles his hand upwards, extending his index and little finger)

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Still Alive, But Still Busy

07/12/2007

Many projects planned, little time to finish and post them within the past few months. Just a note to let everyone know the site has not, in fact, been abandoned.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

And They’re Done

01/10/2007

Thus ends the Dhe’nar interpretation of the official list of Arkati and Spirits. Now that that’s taken care of, I can finally move on to other Dhe’nar projects.

The Dhe’nar View of the “Gods”: V’tull (Arkati)

01/10/2007

As V’tull was one of the subjects I was invited to speak about on Teras, this entry will be excerpts from the transcript of the event:

“It is difficult to speak of V’tull without also discussing Kai, as they are different aspects of the same force.”

“V’tull, like Kai, finds purpose in combat. His rivalry with Kai has lasted for ages, indeed since before even the Ur-Daemon War.”

“V’tull has always been the more powerful of the two, but his raw strength, on those rare occasions the two Arkati have faced each other directly, has always been matched by Kai s greater skill.”

“The two Arkati are indeed quite similar, though most note two important differences.”

“Kai, as a patron of mortals, orients his abilities more towards tactics and strategy, and collective victory in battle.”

“V tull, however, is more interested in individual combat prowess.”

“Thus, while Kai is often the patron of soldiers, V’tull is often the patron of warriors, an important distinction.”

“These distinctions are but generalizations, of course, and do not hold up in all instances.”

“The other notable difference between the two is that, unlike Kai, V’tull sees no need to attempt to put a noble face on combat, leaving moral distinctions for others to concern themselves with.”

“Due to the fact that he only ever manages stalemates in his direct conflicts with Kai, many Dhe’nar see V’tull as a lesson in the limits of power insufficiently channeled through discipline and knowledge, since it his only the lack of such that prevents him from dominating his opponent.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Dhe’nar View of the “Gods”: Voln (Lesser Spirit)

11/29/2006

The Dhe’nar first learned of Voln upon making initial contact with the fledgling human Empire. It was clear that Voln was an ascendant (of sorts), and they could find nothing to disprove the claim that he was the half-mortal son of Koar. The First Born took interest in his teachings, long enough to:

A) Determine that they were far too simplistic, almost childishly so, on the subject of the undead, and

B) Dissect his cult and figure out how to obtain the abilities he grants his followers (read: Sympathetic Magic) without actually dedicating themselves to his teachings.

Thus, the First Born are able to tap Voln’s power by going through the motions of his rituals, without ever needing to join his crusade against the unliving. They’ve separated the philosophy taught and the abilities granted by Voln, so that they need not necessarily take one with the other.

The Dhe’nar View of the “Gods”: Tonis (Arkati)

11/29/2006

Though the Dhe’nar have little regard for Oleani, and none for Phoen, Tonis has transcended his parents in their eyes, proving that birth is not necessarily destiny. Though somewhat childlike in manner, he does offer useful lessons.

He is not typically considered the patron of thieves by the Dhe’nar, but he is looked favorably upon by scouts and others of the Warrior caste who rely primarily on speed and maneuverability in battle (light cavalry and infantry, skirmishers, etc). While none actively worship him, there is more than one Dhe’nari military order inspired by Tonis’ teachings, and there are some within the ranks of the Warlock caste who honor him as well, typically those who specialize in Air magics.

The Dhe’nar View of the “Gods”: Voaris (Lesser Spirit)

11/29/2006

As the Dhe’nar put little faith in childish notions of romance, they see Voaris as noothing more than a troublemaker, encouraging such foolishness amongst children everywhere, though they attempt to mitigate his effect on their own young. The Dhe’nar tolerate such nonsense
only until such time as one finishes his training and is expected to begin fulfilling his duties as an adult. Before then, pining away over abstract notions of romance are tolerated, though certainly not encouraged. After then, one would likely be considered mentally ill, and would be disciplined harshly by one’s superiors if it ever began to affect one’s duties.

It is generally assumed that Oleani uses Voaris to dupe young mortals into breeding early, before they are old enough to engage their mature, rational minds and resist her influence.

The Dhe’nar View of the “Gods”: Tilamaire (Lesser Spirit/Ascendant)

11/29/2006

Tilamaire is held in no higher regard by the Dhe’nar than his master, Cholen. A hedonist in thrall to a greater hedonist, Tilamaire is generally considered a waste of time to study, and one could probably count on one hand the number of First Born who pay any attention to him at all. The denizens of Sharath have more important things to do than sing and prance.

It is generally assumed that Tilamaire was a mortal who seduced Cholen into granting him Ascension, and while this reveals one more method by which to gain Ascension, those Dhe’nar willing to pursue it are few and far between.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Still Alive

11/11/2006

Still alive, been damn busy. Have new posts prepared, but not polished enough to actually post yet.

Would like to greet all the new members. Welcome.

Those of you who’ve followed the comments on posts here may know that this site is far less hostile to the Obsidian Tower than it once was. In fact, one of my Dhe’nar characters, at the Tower’s invitation, spoke about the Arkati a few months ago on Teras (though I wasn’t as prepared as I’d have liked, and was a bit rusty with roleplaying that particular character at the time, I enjoyed the opportunity). While my character will never join the sect, there’s certainly no reason for hostility between us players, as things have changed greatly since I first began writing here.

It’s my goal to make the Dhe’nar culture even deeper and richer than it’s previously been, and to that end, cooperating with Tower players would be quite the boon.

Anyway, this is essentially just a heads up to let everyone know the site isn’t dead. I’m hoping to get the last Arkati posts up soon, and then move onto other aspects of Dhe’nar culture again, finally.