Malloriel
Creative Mastermind
Just a piece of a section I've been toying around with. Based in large part off of a section of notes in one of the many scribbling books I've got laying about the house. For those who like them, there's a pronunciation key at the end, as well as definitions for particular terms. For those who care little for them, it exists should you change your mind. ^_^
Any opinions welcome. I wrote this draft straight to the thread box, so it's more or less a first draft with a refinement put over it.
---
Wor'gashan watched as the human girl made her way across the central isle of the Oculus Chamber, his vantage point quite secure as he blended within the surrounding shadows present behind the sculpted ear of a T'lech warrior.
Flanking the central isle stood the Sentinels, their carven ebony forms supporting the domed ceiling above, each one from a different warrior within the long forgotten Dark tribes: The Morden with their prominent fangs and signature wide-mouthed grins; the Gorleth, whose bodies produced blade-liked appendages to be used as weapons; the Ochlem, whose cries could shatter the soul and rob the body of all sense of will; the T'lech, their disproportionate and malformed bodies disguising the deadly grace within; the Gemloch, his own, with their segmented legs and thirst for knowledge; the Ekkreth, the Cthelgreth, the Kethiry'ch, the Vargol and the Regrath, all represented within the sanctuary, guarding the hallowed temple.
Upon watching the human as she so casually desecrated Ubrekkya, the only thought wandering beneath his passive bearing was to cut her down, a dispassionate distaste lingering in his mind the longer her presence remained to taint the Dark energy of the temple. He shifted his weight gently, armour clicking softly in Ubrekkya's silence, and prepared to descend from the shelter the warrior provided him when new movement caught his eye.
The Ekkreth warrior opposite Wor'gashan's perch subtly shifted, the sinister span of his wings lifting with the slow precision he suspected only a Sentinel capable of executing. Behind the lenses of his helm his gaze narrowed at the colossus before him, speculation easily replacing his previous intentions. Within the span of his knowledge as temple guardian the Sentinels had never displayed the evidence of their lingering souls in such a physical way before, and the writings said one thing and one thing alone about the way the Ekkreth behaved now.
The shadows around Wor'gashan's head began to shift as well, and as he looked he noted that the T'lech warrior had joined the Ekkreth, both of them moving in such a way that the hunched support they had given the ceiling for millennia became a posture of pride and duty. Without moving his own head, he shifted his gaze back to the human girl, her steps taking her into the space between the Sentinels of the Ochlem and Kethiry'ch. As she passed the midway point they joined in the singular activity to change their posture, but the girl remained unaware, her eyes fixed upon the towering beauty that was Ubrekkya, dominating the centre of the Oculus Chamber, her branches extending above and beyond the opening that gave the chamber its name to let only the most determined fragments of light to filter onto the three thrones at her base.
Far below, War'gashan recalled, her roots tapped into the ancient aquifer that managed to always feed her, no matter how the ages passed and the world changed, that system had remained intact. With unobstructed access to nutrients and water she had been allowed to grow without limitation so that beyond the crumbling walls of the temple built to honour Anthia, the goddess of Darkness, her dark leaves and branches extended high above the rest of the forest, forever sheltering what lay below.
He too let his eyes linger upon Ubrekkya's sacred form, marvelling anew at the shade of her flesh, like an even char throughout, and leaves like twilight. He'd been astonished at how stunning a tree their Sanctuary was, that she could house a sentience within, and even remain an oracle after living so very very long. And now Ubrekkya and the Sentinels knew what War'gashan never would have dared to dream could happen in his lifetime.
Finally did he make his way from the T'lech's shadow, spidering down the warrior's form to walk the shadows in the girl's wake.
As the girl, or rather young woman -he could see her more clearly now and though she seemed to have the physical characteristics of a younger being, she was obviously an adult, her curves evident despite how the fabric of her cloak attempted to keep them hidden away- approached the thrones, she paused long enough to let her fingers trail across the arm of the one that sat in the centre. There seemed a reverence to her touch, though War'gashan could see no reason she would have to know what she was doing despite what the warriors of the Dark tribes were telling him.
Simple as they were, having been made from the base of Ubrekkya lent them an air of majesty that only the truest of sacred objects could hold, and though he wished not to acknowledge it. the woman acted as though she knew intimately the nature of the tree and her thrones.
As she sat, a distant part of him recognised that anyone else would pay for such behaviour with their lives, but the voice was far from him now, a hollow echo of awareness, a piece of his subconscious self clinging to the reality he'd always known, trying desperately to hold onto that world where deities didn't touch down on earth and didn't herald an end to all things familiar. He'd grown complacent in life, as had many of his kind, resigned to the views that limited their existences, and to have all of that threatened was a difficult reality to face. He couldn't deny, however, that every fibre of him began to sing as he approached, thrumming with a new rhythm, as if finally in balance as he should be. It was the same sensation he got on the few occasions he let his fingers trail along one of the arms of the lesser thrones, Ubrekkya's own song resonating within him.
Unable to resist any longer, he finally moved into the light, which glanced from his angled legs as if with fear. His movements clicked almost chitinously as he moved forward, six segmented legs clad in exoskeletal armour-like intimidation drawing him inexorably forward, his torso all but bare, and were it not for the midnight hue of his skin, resembling that of the woman's own species, though markedly more masculine than her visually frail form. If one also ignored the whorling of tattoos that covered most every inch of him left exposed he could easily be mistaken for a kinsman, at least that's what he imagined when left alone in the quiet hours of of the pre-dawn half-night.
'Wor'gashan,' he said, his voice both rich and slithering, quiet clicks accentuating the sound, though whether from the nature of his speech or his legs shifting imperceptibly below would be impossible for the woman to determine. 'Nith vech noch til,' he continued, glistening black eyes scrutinising her every move behind the impassive mask of his helm.
For her part she did sit as though she knew the throne was her own, her back with gently stiffened poise and possession.
'A pleasure to meet you as well, Wor'gashan,' she said, her voice ringing clearly through the chamber as an onyx bell struck in the silence of high ceremony. 'I am Larsinne.'
She did not rise to meet him.
Wor'gashan inclined his head to her in acknowledgement, marking that she either had the ear for Dark tongues already or she'd been taught greetings and hadn't mastered speech herself.
'Tor vech ech ternith,' he said, watching as one of her brows lifted to express a sense of oh really? Supressing a smile, he pushed further; by the look she had the ear.
'Arak go til neth,' and with his smile peeking through he added, 'gorthil.'
'Child?' She asked, her voice cool and careless. 'By mortal reckoning yes. Compared to this tree so are we all.' She gestured casually with one delicate looking hand, yet kept her eyes on him and continued. 'Though that gives only the tree the right to use such terms. As for trespassing . . .'
Wor'gashan did smile then; a sharp ear and a tongue to match! Anthia be sheltered, but she had made a splendid choice.
'I know very well where the door is so if you need help finding it I can lend my aid.' She remained sitting as a queen in full court, staring quite intently upon him and he right back.
After a measuring span of mutual silence, a battle passing between them in those quiet moments, one that would determine the weight of his respect and the volume of her presence, he finally ceded and inclined his head once more. "Anthia has made a fine choice in you, my Lady."
A smile spread across the Scion named Larsinne's lips, sweet but well informed. Just how informed was as yet unknown, but what she lacked in knowledge she supplemented with pride, poise, wit and a confidence unseen in others of her kin. Besides, Wor'gashan knew quite a lot and could inform, teach, and guide as much as needed. While he knew little of the role he would play in her existence, and bore only speculative knowledge of why she had been called to duty in this age, he knew he would provide all that he had to her disposal.
The soft click of claw upon stone arose behind him heralding the arrival of one of the Lesser Beasts, which in passing him revealed itself to be one of the great cats, one not native to the region.
It didn't even pause to give him a cursory sniffing, but took to Larsinne's side as if by right, and sat with the same posture of regality that mirrored his mistress' own.
----
Glossary section:
Dark Tribes: The Dark Tribes are the tribes of the races both dedicated to and derived from Dark essences. Once there were many, their civilisations great and well known throughout the realm. In the age this story takes place, the Dark Tribes are little more than a myth, devices in old stories used to keep children in line and to chill the spine around a camp fire.
In all the words below, CH is pronounced as the Germans would pronounce it, or as seen in the Scottish 'loch'.
*Gemloch - Hard G as it 'get', GEM-loch
*Gorleth - GORE-leth.
*Ochlem - OCH-lem.
*Morden - MORE-den.
*Ekkreth - ECK-reth.
*T'lech - Short T as if with the expectation of a vowel to follow, and then right on into -lech, two syllables. T-lech
*Cthelgreth - It's actually SELL-greth, short E in both parts. The combination of letters C-T-H create the S sound in this language.
*Kethiry'ch - keth-EAR-ich.
*Vargol - VAR-goal.
*Regrath - REH-grath.
In speech, the I is a long E as in 'kneel', E is short as in 'get', CH is that found in 'loch', O is short as in 'not', OR is the same as 'or'.
Nith vech noch til - It's a pleasure to meet you.
(neeth vech noch teel)
Tor vech ech ternith - You trespass here. A non-invitational phrase, or reverse invitational, formally asking someone to leave by
(tore vech ech tear-neeth) -indicating something rather than stating it.
Arak go til neth: - Loosely translated, 'can you find the door.'
(ar-ack go teel neth)
Gorthil: Little one, or child.
(gore-theel)
Ubrekkya: Within a shared language of the different tribes, ubrekkya means 'sanctuary' and was the name given to the tree ages after she had been created. She had gone by many names in many ages and Ubrekkya was merely the most recent, and one she quite enjoys. She is sentient, can sense great events over unknown distances, and in a limited way translate this knowledge to those around her. With the aide of a high priest and high priestess, attuned to her energy and of the Dark Tribes, she is able to communicate clearly. She can also communicate to the spirits still dwelling in the monumental Sentinels. Ubrekkya, seen as a special example of Anthia's power on earth, was cherished above all else and honoured as the tribes would honour Anthia herself.
The Sentinels: As the temple was being built around Ubrekkya, who had by then been around for several millennia, a warrior from each tribe who had honoured himself greatly within his tribe, having been recognised by each of the other tribes, was chosen to guard Ubrekkya and the temple, built itself to honour Anthia, their Great Mother.
Anthia: The goddess of Darkness. Also known as the Secret Keeper and the Mother of Lies.
Larsinne: Lar-see-nah. Scion of Darkness.
Scion: Scions are those chosen by the gods to be their representations on earth, given access to the essences of the gods themselves, specifically to whichever had activated them in the first place. Scions are only activated during times of greatest need, though not by 'mortal' standards. For the gods to feel their involvement to be necessary, universal balance and all of creation must be in some way put in danger. Many times one Scion alone would be activated for a specific purpose held dear to the god or goddess, or a pair to work together. In only the rarest times have more than three been called upon, and in no time recalled by even the oldest of Dragon kept records.
Lesser Beast: Beasts of the realm are particular beings with very primal power, most commonly found in the shape of animals. Of those classified as Beasts there are those known as Lesser and those known as Greater. Lesser Beasts are on occasion known to bond themselves to a mortal being to aide them in their lives, whether bound for greatness or not, though more frequently to those still sung about in the more well known epics. An example would be the great cat of Larsinne's whose particular ability to aide will be exposed later. An example of a Greater Beast would be the 'Dark Unicorn' (as yet with no better name).
I think that's about all of them.
Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it.
Any opinions welcome. I wrote this draft straight to the thread box, so it's more or less a first draft with a refinement put over it.
---
Wor'gashan watched as the human girl made her way across the central isle of the Oculus Chamber, his vantage point quite secure as he blended within the surrounding shadows present behind the sculpted ear of a T'lech warrior.
Flanking the central isle stood the Sentinels, their carven ebony forms supporting the domed ceiling above, each one from a different warrior within the long forgotten Dark tribes: The Morden with their prominent fangs and signature wide-mouthed grins; the Gorleth, whose bodies produced blade-liked appendages to be used as weapons; the Ochlem, whose cries could shatter the soul and rob the body of all sense of will; the T'lech, their disproportionate and malformed bodies disguising the deadly grace within; the Gemloch, his own, with their segmented legs and thirst for knowledge; the Ekkreth, the Cthelgreth, the Kethiry'ch, the Vargol and the Regrath, all represented within the sanctuary, guarding the hallowed temple.
Upon watching the human as she so casually desecrated Ubrekkya, the only thought wandering beneath his passive bearing was to cut her down, a dispassionate distaste lingering in his mind the longer her presence remained to taint the Dark energy of the temple. He shifted his weight gently, armour clicking softly in Ubrekkya's silence, and prepared to descend from the shelter the warrior provided him when new movement caught his eye.
The Ekkreth warrior opposite Wor'gashan's perch subtly shifted, the sinister span of his wings lifting with the slow precision he suspected only a Sentinel capable of executing. Behind the lenses of his helm his gaze narrowed at the colossus before him, speculation easily replacing his previous intentions. Within the span of his knowledge as temple guardian the Sentinels had never displayed the evidence of their lingering souls in such a physical way before, and the writings said one thing and one thing alone about the way the Ekkreth behaved now.
The shadows around Wor'gashan's head began to shift as well, and as he looked he noted that the T'lech warrior had joined the Ekkreth, both of them moving in such a way that the hunched support they had given the ceiling for millennia became a posture of pride and duty. Without moving his own head, he shifted his gaze back to the human girl, her steps taking her into the space between the Sentinels of the Ochlem and Kethiry'ch. As she passed the midway point they joined in the singular activity to change their posture, but the girl remained unaware, her eyes fixed upon the towering beauty that was Ubrekkya, dominating the centre of the Oculus Chamber, her branches extending above and beyond the opening that gave the chamber its name to let only the most determined fragments of light to filter onto the three thrones at her base.
Far below, War'gashan recalled, her roots tapped into the ancient aquifer that managed to always feed her, no matter how the ages passed and the world changed, that system had remained intact. With unobstructed access to nutrients and water she had been allowed to grow without limitation so that beyond the crumbling walls of the temple built to honour Anthia, the goddess of Darkness, her dark leaves and branches extended high above the rest of the forest, forever sheltering what lay below.
He too let his eyes linger upon Ubrekkya's sacred form, marvelling anew at the shade of her flesh, like an even char throughout, and leaves like twilight. He'd been astonished at how stunning a tree their Sanctuary was, that she could house a sentience within, and even remain an oracle after living so very very long. And now Ubrekkya and the Sentinels knew what War'gashan never would have dared to dream could happen in his lifetime.
Finally did he make his way from the T'lech's shadow, spidering down the warrior's form to walk the shadows in the girl's wake.
As the girl, or rather young woman -he could see her more clearly now and though she seemed to have the physical characteristics of a younger being, she was obviously an adult, her curves evident despite how the fabric of her cloak attempted to keep them hidden away- approached the thrones, she paused long enough to let her fingers trail across the arm of the one that sat in the centre. There seemed a reverence to her touch, though War'gashan could see no reason she would have to know what she was doing despite what the warriors of the Dark tribes were telling him.
Simple as they were, having been made from the base of Ubrekkya lent them an air of majesty that only the truest of sacred objects could hold, and though he wished not to acknowledge it. the woman acted as though she knew intimately the nature of the tree and her thrones.
As she sat, a distant part of him recognised that anyone else would pay for such behaviour with their lives, but the voice was far from him now, a hollow echo of awareness, a piece of his subconscious self clinging to the reality he'd always known, trying desperately to hold onto that world where deities didn't touch down on earth and didn't herald an end to all things familiar. He'd grown complacent in life, as had many of his kind, resigned to the views that limited their existences, and to have all of that threatened was a difficult reality to face. He couldn't deny, however, that every fibre of him began to sing as he approached, thrumming with a new rhythm, as if finally in balance as he should be. It was the same sensation he got on the few occasions he let his fingers trail along one of the arms of the lesser thrones, Ubrekkya's own song resonating within him.
Unable to resist any longer, he finally moved into the light, which glanced from his angled legs as if with fear. His movements clicked almost chitinously as he moved forward, six segmented legs clad in exoskeletal armour-like intimidation drawing him inexorably forward, his torso all but bare, and were it not for the midnight hue of his skin, resembling that of the woman's own species, though markedly more masculine than her visually frail form. If one also ignored the whorling of tattoos that covered most every inch of him left exposed he could easily be mistaken for a kinsman, at least that's what he imagined when left alone in the quiet hours of of the pre-dawn half-night.
'Wor'gashan,' he said, his voice both rich and slithering, quiet clicks accentuating the sound, though whether from the nature of his speech or his legs shifting imperceptibly below would be impossible for the woman to determine. 'Nith vech noch til,' he continued, glistening black eyes scrutinising her every move behind the impassive mask of his helm.
For her part she did sit as though she knew the throne was her own, her back with gently stiffened poise and possession.
'A pleasure to meet you as well, Wor'gashan,' she said, her voice ringing clearly through the chamber as an onyx bell struck in the silence of high ceremony. 'I am Larsinne.'
She did not rise to meet him.
Wor'gashan inclined his head to her in acknowledgement, marking that she either had the ear for Dark tongues already or she'd been taught greetings and hadn't mastered speech herself.
'Tor vech ech ternith,' he said, watching as one of her brows lifted to express a sense of oh really? Supressing a smile, he pushed further; by the look she had the ear.
'Arak go til neth,' and with his smile peeking through he added, 'gorthil.'
'Child?' She asked, her voice cool and careless. 'By mortal reckoning yes. Compared to this tree so are we all.' She gestured casually with one delicate looking hand, yet kept her eyes on him and continued. 'Though that gives only the tree the right to use such terms. As for trespassing . . .'
Wor'gashan did smile then; a sharp ear and a tongue to match! Anthia be sheltered, but she had made a splendid choice.
'I know very well where the door is so if you need help finding it I can lend my aid.' She remained sitting as a queen in full court, staring quite intently upon him and he right back.
After a measuring span of mutual silence, a battle passing between them in those quiet moments, one that would determine the weight of his respect and the volume of her presence, he finally ceded and inclined his head once more. "Anthia has made a fine choice in you, my Lady."
A smile spread across the Scion named Larsinne's lips, sweet but well informed. Just how informed was as yet unknown, but what she lacked in knowledge she supplemented with pride, poise, wit and a confidence unseen in others of her kin. Besides, Wor'gashan knew quite a lot and could inform, teach, and guide as much as needed. While he knew little of the role he would play in her existence, and bore only speculative knowledge of why she had been called to duty in this age, he knew he would provide all that he had to her disposal.
The soft click of claw upon stone arose behind him heralding the arrival of one of the Lesser Beasts, which in passing him revealed itself to be one of the great cats, one not native to the region.
It didn't even pause to give him a cursory sniffing, but took to Larsinne's side as if by right, and sat with the same posture of regality that mirrored his mistress' own.
----
Glossary section:
Dark Tribes: The Dark Tribes are the tribes of the races both dedicated to and derived from Dark essences. Once there were many, their civilisations great and well known throughout the realm. In the age this story takes place, the Dark Tribes are little more than a myth, devices in old stories used to keep children in line and to chill the spine around a camp fire.
In all the words below, CH is pronounced as the Germans would pronounce it, or as seen in the Scottish 'loch'.
*Gemloch - Hard G as it 'get', GEM-loch
*Gorleth - GORE-leth.
*Ochlem - OCH-lem.
*Morden - MORE-den.
*Ekkreth - ECK-reth.
*T'lech - Short T as if with the expectation of a vowel to follow, and then right on into -lech, two syllables. T-lech
*Cthelgreth - It's actually SELL-greth, short E in both parts. The combination of letters C-T-H create the S sound in this language.
*Kethiry'ch - keth-EAR-ich.
*Vargol - VAR-goal.
*Regrath - REH-grath.
In speech, the I is a long E as in 'kneel', E is short as in 'get', CH is that found in 'loch', O is short as in 'not', OR is the same as 'or'.
Nith vech noch til - It's a pleasure to meet you.
(neeth vech noch teel)
Tor vech ech ternith - You trespass here. A non-invitational phrase, or reverse invitational, formally asking someone to leave by
(tore vech ech tear-neeth) -indicating something rather than stating it.
Arak go til neth: - Loosely translated, 'can you find the door.'
(ar-ack go teel neth)
Gorthil: Little one, or child.
(gore-theel)
Ubrekkya: Within a shared language of the different tribes, ubrekkya means 'sanctuary' and was the name given to the tree ages after she had been created. She had gone by many names in many ages and Ubrekkya was merely the most recent, and one she quite enjoys. She is sentient, can sense great events over unknown distances, and in a limited way translate this knowledge to those around her. With the aide of a high priest and high priestess, attuned to her energy and of the Dark Tribes, she is able to communicate clearly. She can also communicate to the spirits still dwelling in the monumental Sentinels. Ubrekkya, seen as a special example of Anthia's power on earth, was cherished above all else and honoured as the tribes would honour Anthia herself.
The Sentinels: As the temple was being built around Ubrekkya, who had by then been around for several millennia, a warrior from each tribe who had honoured himself greatly within his tribe, having been recognised by each of the other tribes, was chosen to guard Ubrekkya and the temple, built itself to honour Anthia, their Great Mother.
Anthia: The goddess of Darkness. Also known as the Secret Keeper and the Mother of Lies.
Larsinne: Lar-see-nah. Scion of Darkness.
Scion: Scions are those chosen by the gods to be their representations on earth, given access to the essences of the gods themselves, specifically to whichever had activated them in the first place. Scions are only activated during times of greatest need, though not by 'mortal' standards. For the gods to feel their involvement to be necessary, universal balance and all of creation must be in some way put in danger. Many times one Scion alone would be activated for a specific purpose held dear to the god or goddess, or a pair to work together. In only the rarest times have more than three been called upon, and in no time recalled by even the oldest of Dragon kept records.
Lesser Beast: Beasts of the realm are particular beings with very primal power, most commonly found in the shape of animals. Of those classified as Beasts there are those known as Lesser and those known as Greater. Lesser Beasts are on occasion known to bond themselves to a mortal being to aide them in their lives, whether bound for greatness or not, though more frequently to those still sung about in the more well known epics. An example would be the great cat of Larsinne's whose particular ability to aide will be exposed later. An example of a Greater Beast would be the 'Dark Unicorn' (as yet with no better name).
I think that's about all of them.
Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it.
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