Amythra 12

The two didn't talk for the rest of the trip until the next day when they ship approached the impossible plateau with an eastern sun to light the way.

Annalow was humongous. Bigger than anything Amythra could have imagined. It began as a blurry shape on the horizon with the Ebony Tower sticking out first, but then the true scope of the place took shape the closer they got. The Impossible Plateau stood higher, already, above the sea than anything Amythra had seen. That the buildings and especially the tower to go even higher boggled her mind. On the right edge, there was the beginning of a ramp carved into the plateau and protected by countless pillars starting at the bottom of the formation, and therefore the north docks, and spiraling around and up at a semi-steep slope until it went out of site half way up.

The docks of Annalow were huge enough, bigger than Amythra's village, and shadowed under a hollowed out cavern, half carved and half eroded by the ocean under the plateau. There must have been a minimum of 50 ships, all different shapes, size, and styles. At least more styles than Amythra had ever known. In the darkness of the docks burned lamps and windows of buildings that lived in perpetual night.

The gulls sang about it as they approached and danced in the air in celebration of all mume who may have their first visit to the Capital City. Welcome home.

An Update on Style

We need structure, and tho you may have guessed there is a color code to my updates, there isn't a good structure for story telling or world building, so here's what I will try for the next month and see if it works, eh?

Monday - Friday will be Story time. Once I finish with the story of Amythra's travels, we'll move onto another story, probably one about Spuni the White Maiden. Maybe some political intrigue. I don't know.

Saturday and Sunday will be World Building updates as I give hints, lost letters, and explanations about the world Mash'ta that Mandra and I have built. It's wholly complicated, right now, especially in the political front of Annalow, which if you haven't guessed, is a republic city-state half run by the Church of the Living Goddess. Lul, I don't know what I'm doing.

My ultimate goal is to make a useful world for Roll Playing, tho Mandra's designs were purely around her city. We've discussed it at length and both decided a campaign setting would be a good way for us to flesh out the world and leave it open for others. If you're interested, the RPG will be based on Active Exploits Take 2, by Politically Incorrect Games.

These changes will start tomorrow with Amythra 12 and we'll see what comes of the future updates. Hopefully, I'll be more dedicated in my consistancy. I know my record this year has been pretty poor.

Savor.

[note: The comic is a clip from Crystal's Hell, a comic I did about 2 or 3 years back]

The Remarkable Treasures of Mash'ta

Counsil-Effee Pin-Drop,

The information you requested was no easy task to uncover for the venerable church, but my dedication as a mume-kin proved most worthy this past season. Most of this knowledge was discovered from the Elder-Library of South Briston, a hidden Felf community that has dedicated themselves toward the collection of data. If ever you are released by the church of the Living Goddess, I highly recommend finding this library. It is awe inspiring.

You're guesses of 6 artifacts was almost correct. There are seven and not six. Manipulation of reality, or Magic as you stubbornly call it, comes in more varieties than you may think and more than the great races have respective artifacts, minus the two new races of Mume kin and Rabbit Kin. The collection of these artifacts is called by the Felk Kin "The Remarkable Treasures."

The Scepter of Ouroboros, who's magic is unknowable, is held jealously by the Ixxar. It is as secret as the Ixxar are themselves of their magic. I highly recommend you avoid this treasure for fear of the entire race coming down on Annalow, which would be disastrous.

The Andross Mechanism, a clock-like construction of ancient felf design seems to grant fox-like gifts. It's where abouts is unknown, but it's power was once used at the Shrinking Mountains.

The Grock-Min-Sol (translated from Old-Borc: "The Blade of the High Sun" or "Noon Sun.") History has seen this sword recently. Heaven forbid it shows again, because its last master was Fargo Ipskin, may his name forever be spit on.

The Rod of Four Things you already know about. I believe it was a gift from the Marf to the Church through the immortal Red Maid Carr'Dine. It grants the Marf's gift of manipulating physical substance.

The Apple of Peace was not of the Great Races, but your guess was correct as to it's location. Those who have touched it know unending certainty and calm. I don't know how this works as it is Crow-Kin magic. It was buried in the eastern lands with Quiet King Merch of the Marf Kin.

The Brush of Timber I guess you know about. The Dryad's have been struggling to reclaim it from the Borc Cross Malitia from the North, but they are so weak in military that the Tree-kin's quest seems hopeless. We may end up claiming it with the defeat of the militia, or the Borc may end up with. Who ever does, they may control life and death with a touch of the brush. Very dangerous.

Finally the seventh artifact you would have no way of even imagining. It is called Drin's Cube and it is strange and beautiful in design. The Felf call it an elaborate Tesseract and have varying illustrations of it. From what I gather it holds no earthly shape, but it's properties are also useless without outside power. It can imbue magic into any item. Avoid it, tho. Only Mouse-Kin seem to be able to touch it without succumbing to eventual insanity. The Felf hold it, but I know not where and although friendly to the Mume, the Felf laughed at my request for it's location.

It seems strange that the Mume and the Effee have not one of their own Remarkable Treasures, but the whole of Mash'ta recognize both as Great Races despite this. May the Living Goddess grant such boons in the future. I can't guess what the Effee's treasure would be, tho.

Counsil-Effee Pin-Drop, I hope to see you soon, my friend. When I return to Annalow, I have tales to tell you. In the mean time, please enjoy my copies of the Remarkable Treasure designs I have made.

Savor,

Pelton Trilcall

-Letter intercepted by Borc Cross Malitia, 1999 years from Zero Day.

Amythra 11

The girl remembered her talk with Crate. "Why are you going, brother?"

Marvate shrugged. "Because it's right, sister."

"Wolf-dung. It's no more right than stay'n and help'n your father, like I'm do'n." She crossed her arms for maximum disapproval gaze. "Sides, we both know you're really in it for the glory."

He shrugged again. "I'm not gonna make you understand, Amythra. The Borc need our help and they've sacrificed themselves for the Mume already. Seems right I should help."

"You'd do as much good kill'n yourself now and let them catapult your corpse in front of the Cross Malitia for all the good you'll do with a sword."

"Oh such words of encouragement, Amythra. But don't hold it in, sister. You'll strain yourself."

"You're such a fool."

"It's my choice!" Marvate stood up taller than his sister. "And I aim to make the best of that choice!"

Amythra met his stare, hands on hips. "A choice you shouldn't even be allowed to make! You already got a job with father!"

"Should be allowed...? That doesn't even make a lick of sense! Who's choice would it be if not mine, then? Your's?!"

"Well I know better than to just chuck you out into the winter air of the north with only your friend's shed blood to warm you!"

"You don't even know if that'll happen! You don't know anything!"

"And you do?" Amythra threw her hands up and screamed in frustration, then turn opposite Marvate to growl. "You've such a thick head, Marvate. Such a thick head!"

"Quiet!" the marf yelled "I'm try'n to be sick over here!"

[And I missed another day yesterday due to extreme sleep problems. 12 Days off left this year.]

A Touch of Mirrim

Behind one thousand mile thick walls it remained night. Futility was a fly pinned to the work table observing an ended eternity. Eternity shall stand, too. The fly watched Mirrim ready her leather apron and gloves so not to get fly-blood on her. With a world of stone outside, no one to hear screams or right injustice, just like real life, the fly had no hope left to lose.

"We were talking," said Mirrim, "I think, about the worthlessness of compassion. It is not the same as empathy, to be sure." Mirrim places a tool box on the table and began to clean her tools. "Be certain that we've never lived in an independent world. There are lives we touch, want it or don't. We are like bubbles of reality colliding into one another and the inevitable encounter changes us and each other. Empathy is important. Empathy is survival. Compassion is weakness."

As Mirrim finished cleaning, she chose a hammer and systematically broke each of the fly's joints. "It's no wonder the sociopath's run the country. I don't mean just this one. They understand the difference. They guard not their earnings, but their winnings by ensuring complacent silence; A stratagem that has proved so effective in this nation that not only is it acceptable for the kings to deceive, it is expected of them. You've heard the saying 'When does a politician lie? When his mouth is open.' That is how you define 'zeitgeist.'"

Next, the saw. "It never ceases to amaze me, human stupidity. Each individual judges another how they would judge them self, which of course is folly. If you look to a homeless man to think, 'How can I help?' or, more likely 'Someone should do something.' you would expect the kings and queens to think the same way. If I had a sense of humor this farce would be most pleasing. The punchline is that people think this over and over despite evidence to the contrary, like refusing to see the roundness of the planet or ignoring the direction of gravity."

"The failure of kings is the faith in their compassion. And the 'backfire effect' is the failure of citizens." Mirrim looked down at her work and saw that it was good.

[Today's segment brought to you by Change (in the house of flies) by the Deftones]

Amythra 10

The Gold Ocean was not gold, at least not in this part of the world. Despite that, Amythra was enthralled by it and the horizon that surrounded it on all sides. This ship was Mume in design and had a flat bottom with a weight at the back near the rudder. There was a rudimentary oar system below in case the wind died, but that didn't happen during her trip.

"Look at the water, Marvate!" She giddily commanded. "It bends! But it bends no matter where I look!"

"Sister, you act like you've never seen the water before. And it's called a horizon."

"Not like this." They were at the bow of the boat, leaning over the edge. "I mean, I know what a horizon is, Brother, but this is huge! It's like Jerrow could fit in here a hundred times or forever!"

"Jus' be glad yer' not sea sick like that poor fellow." Marvate pointed to a Marf at the side of the ship hugging a bucket and occasionally filling it with dry heaves.

"Oh, he'll be fine." She waved the issue away. "All Marf hate the sea. It's because they sink."

"Marf can't swim?"

"Nope."

"Huh." The Mume held his chin in thought. "Maybe I got something that'll help him." Marvate knelt to open his travel sack and began rummaging.

"Ugh. You're a fool, Marvate Tanglenet." Amythra disapproved. "They'll never let you keep all that once you get to the army."

"Sure they will. What'll they do with it if not?"

"Sell it, I'm sure. The back entrance of Annalow is full of black markets that even the city government uses."

Marvate perked up from his sack. "You don't know that. You've never been!"

"Tell me I'm wrong, then. Go on."

The Mume shrugged. "I can't. S'true enough." And went back to rummaging.

Amythra 9

Amythra rolled her eyes and sat down. "To be honest, I really don't want to go. Just no one else will."

"Oh, it's not so bad, there. You'll see more fellow Mumes than yer used ta' seeing, for sure." More eye rolling. "Trust me, lass. It'll be worth it. So," Crate puffed on his pipe, "what happened this afternoon? You were sore."

"Oh...it was...It doesn't matter, I guess."

"Well, if it doesn't matter..." Crate took another puff of his pipe and kicked open the front of the stove. He let the quiet hang in the air a while, watching his friend sulk. Either Amythra was sulking, or losing a staring contest with his broken floor. "I s'pose it's got nothing to do with yer trip, eh? I heard your brother'd be with on the ship to Annalow."

"I don't wanna talk about it." She looked up. "I don't suppose you could come with me?"

Crate chuckled and flicked one of his long dangling ears. "My slave rings been off for a long time, lass. Ever since I became a sailor. No, I'm done with the great city." He playfully poked her with the end of his pipe. "But no fretting, 'hear? It's a Mume city and you'll be taken care of more than you know. If you get into trouble, look to yer kin. You'll be fine. Now," he jammed the pipe back into his mouth and puffed calmly. "Tell me about your brother."

"Blasted idiot." She muttered.

"Brave."

"No, jus' stupid. He's just going off to die, is what he's doing and father doesn't care!" She threw up her hands and growled.

"Burret not care? Ha! Have ya talked about it with Marvate? T'was his decision, after all."

"No. And it's a dumb decision, but he's so thick brained! I bet you harpoons would just bounce off'a that skull of his!"

"Aye. Thick...or he just thinks it's right." Crate puffed some more. "Don't hold back, Amythra, m'lass. You'll be on a boat with him for at least a day's travel. Tell the idiot he's wrong and see what he does. Who knows?" He chuckled. "The blasted idiot may see sense. Or you."

Amythra quickly turned the conversation toward the new ship she saw at the harbor and they drank leaf-juice while talking about it. In the end, Amythra slept with brow unfurrowed, but still angry at her brother.