Cyclone — Roleplayer Guild

Related to world-building, @Cyclone, how accessible are the Winds of Change as a source of magic for mortals? What quirks or requirements are involved in magic powered by the Winds of Change?@BBeast

Though the winds are sometimes more concentrated and thus the magic is a lot stronger and easier to use, but there's a little bit spread out all over Galbar. So it's both accessible and potent. The issue is that neither Ventus nor Aihtiraq are sharing any of its secrets, so mortals must figure it out on their own.

Since I've been having a hard time thinking of a way to establish their details IC I'd be happy to make a collab with you in which Teknall starts experimenting with it in a lab.

For the benefit of everyone else, some quirks:
-It's literally Zephyrion's own magic and so using it too blatantly and too much will draw the ire of djinn
-Incidentally, it is a very effective way to fight the djinn
-It'd be useful for alchemy as a catalyst for almost everything and for acting as an agent to enable transmutations

Triumvirate


Broken Truth


"Where do dead things go?"

Without a heartbeat Elder Zeroun answered, "Down, my boy; in life we may find greatness and rise, 'til an ill wind cast us down. The dead can only sink."

"But what lies at the bottom of the world where the dead fall?"

"Death! Endless storms, their roiling clouds so thick that they block out the sun and leave only darkness."

"Is there no peace in death, then?"

"I do not know," the wise elder admitted, "for my time to fall has not come yet."


With the unbearable pain of torn wings there came a sort of delirium, though strangely enough the youth felt lucid. To be aware of his own madness and yet helpless to stymie it was...strange. He lacked power over his own emotions, had no control. It summoned that same sense of helplessness that a wingless one has as he falls and flails helplessly through the air.

But he was falling, and falling. Falling.

There was neither measure of time nor distance; for as far down as he plummeted, the blue of the sky above seemed to be just as distant. So oddly enough his mind wandered even in time such as this, and he saw a hundred memories flash before him with each blink.

'So now you know, Zeroun.'  The Elder had faded away only a few fortnights after uttering those words to the young fledgling. 'If only you could say just what awaits me down there.'

In time even that forlorn blue itself became a precious and fleeting thing. Fog and cloud eventually obscured it until it became a coat of gray, and as he fell farther and farther, the skies only grew more grey. Eventually the light began to wane and all turn black. The roar of a great storm echoed upwards from the depths below, and with horror he listened to the sound of oblivion as it steadily grew louder. He was at last caught in the grasp of the storm itself. All light faded; there was only maddening darkness. Flaying winds blew so hard that it ripped his plumage. They buffeted and battered him back and forth, up and down, as if he were but only a leaf. So violent were these winds that he soon lost track of direction, for he could not even tether his senses to gravity's pull. In fact, he was unsure of whether he was even falling. Perhaps his fate was to be suspended there, battered back and forth, pulverized and torn apart.

There finally came a moment of respite, and in that serenity Pasach thought that he had at last moved on and could have his peace. The tranquility lasted a mere moment and then another horrific gale came. It battered him until the utter darkness of the air gave way to a darkness somehow even deeper. That darkness was so deep that it smothered his pain, the wild howling and roaring of the wind, and even his thoughts themselves. That darkness clutched at his body, and too trail and too tired to question it or fight it, he succumbed to it and was carried away.

* * * * *

Shattered Soul


"You stir."

"You torment me."


Pain. Indignation."Speak not such lies; I am your slave, 
and love consumes me like a fire."

Derision. Mockery. "You? Love? Pah! 
You hollow thing, I see naught but my shadow. 
I know well what consumes you: hatred, lust perhaps, but not love."


Explosive fury."After all that I have
done in your eternal service, you belittle me so?
Were you any other, I should shred your body 
and burn your soul!"

Trepidation. Cool, collected insistence."Hmmph. And
yet I love only two things in this eternal
existence: witnessing an enemy's ruination
and you, dear brother. I could never
raise a hand against ye."

"You have overstepped
and though you may reach outwards
with fire and passion, know that
I did rend such things from mine own self.
I am of ice now, do you see?
Never a brother may you be..."

Hesitation. Acceptance. "But mayhaps...my son."


"Unrequited, perhaps, yet my love
endures and is not banished by words.
I shall be a son to you, then 
in obedience and respect perhaps
but not in vigor nor strength
for you only slumber. Awaken
for me, rouse at last I beg,
so that I needn't stand alone any longer."

"You know that my strength
is not what it once was..."


"I am your strength!
Deign open your eyes and you would bear witness:
Before you is your shield,
your vengeance, your might.
I am all that and more.
Though you may be austere yet,
you took the calmness of the eye
but I was born of phlogiston; I am
that inexorable Storm about the eye
and none can rival me or mine fury."

"They would question us
or fear us and judge
and still deny what is mine."


"Then I would show them true fear
shatter them for their charade
slaughter all those that they hold dear
obliterate all that they have made
and from the remnants
pave the path for your glory that I might
bask in it, even if only from your shadow.
I would light the world on fire
that you could rule the ashes."

"They are powerful..."


"They are weak;
they know not their own strength
and will never realize it
bound in the fetters of their own
cowardice and so-called morals."

"Are you not held by like shackles?
I think that though you may speak such words
in truth, you suffer all the same fate."


Amusement."When have I ever held back?"


"Then...soon, maybe...
but let me rest a while longer..."


"No! You have rested too long
and thought too much
and if you continue, you will
lull your own self into an eternal
slumber of death.

No, we move sooner than soon,
amain.
Now grasp my hand, for I have something
to show you."

* * * * *

Eviscerated Vow


Down a dusky road there walked a traveler, though the windswept path felt no spring beneath his step. His walking stick knew not that feeling of comfort that was usually in the man's grip, and his eyes saw without light. All his faith and all his drive had left him when he had lost that game to Yara; he had truly believed himself to be doing the Master's will, and yet it seemed he had earned nothing other than the Master's scorn for it. Or perhaps he had been forsaken all along. Had Yara been right when she said that he knew nothing of God? You know nothing...ignorant...ignorant...

With those thoughts circling about his weary mind like flies about carrion, he walked on without purpose as he had done for many weeks now. Down long and winding path after long and winding path he went, neither direction nor destination upon his mind. He was blessed with an oasis or stream or spring never far when his waterskins ran dry and his throat grew parched, blessed with plentiful fruit dangling low from trees and bushes upon the sides of the road. Yet in that state of blessedness he was also cursed, for in truth he wanted the desert to claim him. He was doomed to wander for the rest of his time, so the witch had said.

He had come a long way from Vetros, but Yara's words still clung tightly to him. When the sun fled to hide behind the hills and dusk brought about the beginning of a cool and windy desert night, the Raptaptapper at last stopped on the roadside to light a fire and make camp for another night.

In the comforting warmth and light of that small fire, he at last laid down to ease himself from the weariness of a whole day spent upon the road. As the fatigue crept from the rest of his body and into his eyes, he stared at the rising embers as they danced in the air. But then, lo and behold, there came specks of rich and auriferous hue where before there had been only dull red and orange. He squinted and saw that the source of that was not the fire, but rather the wind: a small eddy drifted lazily through the air as slow as a snake might slither upon the ground, and upon this wind were those specks of gold. Golden winds such as these were known to be sacred things and rare indeed.

The wind was drawn to him and his fire like a moth to the light, and as it crept closer, the Raptaptapper stirred and tried to rouse himself from his stupor. This did not feel right; it was as if he was being watched by some mysterious force. So he groggily began to sit up, but then the wind rushed forth and poured into the campfire. The flames licked at the air and seemed to immolate that golden wind as quickly and violently as if it were oil, and then it began to consume the air itself - or did that wind consume the fire? The warmth of the fire expanded outwards and grew in intensity, though it was not of the burning sort of heat like that of blistering sand beneath your feet. No, it was a warm, benevolent touch that compelled him to watch on in wonder.

Finally, the chaos died down. That golden wind still swirled about, though a mass of it had coalesced within the flames and animated the fire itself. The body of a great and yet mysterious djinni manifested itself; this was the strangest of them all.


And though the djinni's maw had teeth of fire, they were bared in no snarl; he smiled now, just as he always did. And from his prescence there was only comfort and a sense of wonder, for he banished all fears.


"From afar I have watched you,
and seen your despair
O Enakhat of Talal.

Though I see too Her shadow
looming above, a cloud
it needn't be one that rains.

The way of the wanderer
is blessed indeed.
Banish gloom; witness beauty!

and you may find happiness!"

The Raptapper straightened upon hearing his own name; this was no mere djinni, it was God and the Master himself and he knew it! From his relaxed seat he sprung upwards and then fell back down into a kneel. He cast his gaze downward at the ground for fear of offending the god by looking directly into his splendor, but something...compelled him to lift his eyes. He found the smiling visage looking back with expectant eyes, waiting on a response.

"O Great Master, I...I had lost all hope and all happiness only because I thought that you had rejected me. But here, to have you manifest before me in all your glory as you did to Primus...there are no words! Never again shall my piety wane! I do witness beauty, and glory, and mercy! Endless be my praise unto you, my lord! That curse above me is but nothing before your brilliance!"

"Alas, I am not your Lord.
I am that I am,
nothing more and nothing less.

Not the Master of any land,
a mere spiryt that
would seek to bring happiness.

So rejoice! I am your friend."

And then a tremor went through the Raptaptapper, and even though he was kneeling he nearly fell onto his side. Upon hearing that this was not his Master, just som lesser god or perhaps some strange djinni lord, he felt abandoned once more. It truly was too good to be true; why would the Master have seen fit to descend and visit him?

"I...I am without purpose without the Master. I dedicated my life to him, and now it seems that I have neither him nor my life to show for it. What happiness can I find in this hollow existence?"

And for once Aihtiraq's smile did lessen, though the Raptaptapper didn't notice for he had been looking down in despair once more. Perhaps he should have simply let the man think what he would, for what harm would it have done to think that it had been the great and powerful Zephyrion who had sprung forth from the fire? Oh, but alas; even lowly Aihtiraq had his powers, and he would not let this man succumb to his own sorrow on this night.

"Indeed you served, served long
giving your first life.
But now you have a new life,

and in this one, I bid you
serve yourself and find
what joy you may. I would help!

Speak one wish, and I shall grant."

The Raptaptapper took in a deep breath and held his hands up to his face. He felt his graying beard. Most men would have asked for power, or a great many descendants, or wealth. But now the Raptaptapper had no need for any of those things; he had grown old, and now it was his destiny to wander the world forevermore. He might have tried to ask to be freed of that burden, but the way that Yara's magic worked prohibited him from even coming to that thought. So instead he asked for the only thing that was left to ask for. "A purpose," said he, "give me a purpose to my travels, then."

The djinni's smile widened.
"You always did tell stories
to those that listened
and preached of the gods' glory.

But you had not seen their work
by your own two eyes.
But now, you could  bear witness

to all the gods' great works and
hear the tales of all
the world's scattered men and tribes.

So I offer you this book.
It listens, sees, writes
so I charge you to go forth!

Fill this book, and spread its tales!"

His name, his past, his wants...this strange spiryt truly seemed to know everything about him, and were the Raptaptapper not in such a state, he might have been terrified by such omniscience. As it was, he was only awed; from naught but a golden wind Aihtiraq wove a beautifully bound book into existence. The tome hovered closer to the Raptaptapper until he clutched it. He opened it to see a blank page, but then lo and behold, the journal began writing upon itself! And the Raptaptapper, though he had always been illiterate, could read! "Thank you, my...my friend!" the Firewind's greatest bard called out, but when he looked up he saw nothing but the lifeless flickering of the dying flames in his campfire.

He wouldn't break his promise to wander the Firewind, for that was his curse and he was bound to do so. But he could gut it and turn the curse into a blessing, for now his journeys would no longer be meaningless. He had an entire lifetime to travel and share stories.

We have three sections.

The first one is very brief and features Pasach. He's right where we left off: his wings are torn off and he's falling down into oblivion after Xos threw him off the flying island! I'll admit that section is partly there as a reminder that Caelum and its bird-people inhabitants still exist, but Pasach's story isn't entirely done just yet.

The second section is by far the most important in this post. It involves two voices speaking to one another. Who might they be?

In the third section, we have the Raptaptapper, that guy that lost a game against Yara and was cursed to roam the Firewind forever. He's a pretty sad and somewhat broken guy, seeing no point in life and feeling abandoned by Zephyrion. But lo and behold, a certain djinni appears and tells him that life isn't all so bad! In this conversation it's nonchalantly revealed that the Raptaptapper actually has a name: Enakhat of Talal. But anyways, we're still gonna call him Rappy. 

Rappy bows down in reverence and professes that he's always been pious (except for the past few weeks...) and lives to serve. He thinks Aihtiraq == Zephyrion, and Aihtiraq feels kinda bad. He admits that he is not the Master, but tells Rappy to serve himself and just enjoy life as much as he can. Then fragile Rappy feels hurt and abandoned, so Aihtiraq offers him one wish to try to make him feel better. 

So Rappy asks for a purpose, so Aihtiraq tells him to explore, think of stories, listen to stories, share stories, etc. Basically he challenges Rappy to be the best bard ever, and to help him do it he gives the Raptaptapper a magical book that writes down and illustrates everything the Raptaptapper sees, and though Rappy is illiterate, he is magically capable of reading his new diary/poetry collection.
-1 Might from Zephyrean Pantheon as Aihtiraq grants this wish

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