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Storm's King; The First Gale; The Embodiment of Change
Level 3 God of Change (Air)
10 Might 2 Free Points
&
Vizier Ventus, Majordomo to Zephyrion
Level 1 Hero
18 Khookies
A most perturbing sensation writhed inside the vaporous gut of Ventus. Maize's presence had not been unnoticed; the fibrous hairs and the unnatural energy that bound them let off peculiar drafts. Attuned to the air as he was and with a thousand nearby lesser elementals as his eyes, Ventus was not easily taken unaware. It was hard to hide from the sky.
The fibreling was of little importance, the djinni had initially thought. They were not all that uncommon across Galbar and the playful wind elementals had observed them before with no harm coming of it for either party. This one was strange, though. Where others might have been indifferent or merely curious when they managed to feel the presence of a spiryt, Ventus eventually came to realize that Maize seemed intent on relentlessly following them. Perhaps it was more than just a mindless creature? The diaphonous being descended from above with a rush of wind and revealed himself to this strange creature.
The elemental's shifting body played with the baleful sun and twisted the light in strange ways, the air itself scintillating brilliant as a prismatic gem. A small rush of wind and magic were pulled into the maelstrom that was Ventus, and then they coalesced until he was in his favored form once more: a disembodied gray-skinned humanoid torso, powerfully built and adorned with jewelry, with nothing more than a billowing cloud of black smoke where legs might have been.
His mouth opened and he prepared to address this creature, but then Maize seemed to shudder and the Vizier stopped short. He could only watch with muddled horror and fascination as a writhing mass of flesh emerged from the creature's innards and morphed into an organ of some sorts. The air itself hummed with energy; Ventus stood transfixed, expecting it to speak, but there was nothing but a pounding in his mind. Sometimes silence could be loud.
Then it came: Jvan's alien whispers echoed in his mind. Where his Master's tone was wild, harsh, and unpredictable, the one that now possessed him was melodic. It seemed to wind around itself and repeat in bizarre ways, creating an aberrant cacophony of beautiful unity in his mind. Where others might have felt horror, the elemental's eyes and senses were open to Jvan's otherworldly designs and did not reject them with spiteful disgust.
Her croon intoned him to bring Slough downstream. She promised reward, but even more motivating was the prospect of meeting with the being that possessed such creativity and beauty even in its voice. He determined to embark upon that quest and fulfill her will, but then his thoughts returned once more to Zephyrion, and that was the end. His resolute loyalty was as immobile as a mountain; he could not fathom betraying his Master's will, even for that of this one, and so it was painfully that he would deny Jvan.
He stood there dumbstruck for a long pause, though of course Jvan might have been able to feel exactly what tumultuous thoughts raged through his mind in that span. Apprehensively he decided to speak, for he was now growing slightly wary of this 'Jvan' whose nature his master had not seen fit to share with him. Still, he maintained politeness in every flowing word, for some small embers of that initial blaze of wonder still burned within him. "It is with sorrow in my heart that I must decline this sacred task that you charge unto me; it is Zephyrion's command that Slough be guided to the river valleys and then upstream to the barren wastes beyond. A thousand tears will be shed in the light of this missed opportunity, but time is forgiving to my kind, so perhaps chance will eventually lead me to your arms. Until such splendid futures may become the horizon before me, I must depart. But I leave with you my thanks and warmest regards; however now I must begone, for Slough wanders from my sight already!"
The djinni exploded into a puff of vapor that dissipated as he shifted once more into the form of a blast of wind, racing after the retreating forms of Slough and Esau, attempting to ever so slightly nudge their path and guide the pair towards the river valley.
When confronted with the tempestuous being once again, the two creatures did not regard him with distrust. Even though the part he truly played in its formation had been minimal, it was because of Ventus that the Resort existed, and that the agonized ghoul had been able to find a semblance of rest and recovery. Therefore, Slough decided to follow it, and Esau dutifully followed suit.
At length, they entered the river valley designated for them by Zephyrion. To the Rottenbone, the land appeared to be nothing more than another stretch of waste between two mountain ridges, albeit darkened by dark instead of the usual sand. A muddy river, deprived of microorganisms to sort silt from salt, parted it in half. Were Slough only a little brainier, she might have been puzzled as to why the Vizier led her here, but all she concluded upon confronting the unremarkable ground was that she would have to keep moving; the water would not refresh her, and no herbs lined the murky river's banks. No shade existed to comfort her. It was fit for no life but the new creatures of the air, who might glance upon it as they flew overhead.
With a snort mistakable for dissatisfaction, Slough turned to leave.
Blithely Ventus had followed the Rottenbone, pleased that she seemed willing to advance as he gently directed without objection or hassle. It had been with all to much ease, he had reflected, until at last they had arrived and she had simply turned to leave. No, no, no, this would not do!
Ventus scrabbled to quickly project his mind outwards, probing for the presence of any of his kindred that might be able to help. He sensed countless lesser spiryts, too weak to have voices or greater thoughts of their own, yet still they worked in unison for a greater objective. That was a sure sign that they obeyed the whims of another, more powerful one...it was with greater difficulty that the Vizier reached even further out and sensed the presence of a dust devil, the djinni prowling the dry sands some few miles away. "You who rage there across these lands with your minions, I request your aid! Come to me, at once!"
An answer whipped back through the dry air a short time later, "You speak to Torrid, Windlord of these wastes, and I do not recognize your voice! What being dares pester me like a fly, begging my aid? Speak, insect, lest I flay you with a sandstorm the likes of which you cannot imagine!"
He styled himself a lord? The wretched fool did not know his place; Ventus would not stand for the disrepect of this 'Torrid'. He roared back, "I am Ventus, vizier of the winds and Majordomo to our lord the Eternal Skies! You will do as I ask!" Ventus raced across the landscape to the form of the now terrified and apologetic spiryt, and after a short struggle he dominated the elemental and by extension, all those lesser spiryts that Torrid commanded. "Follow!" he commanded, and the dust devil chased after him along with a thousand small eddies of wind. With the power of the desert winds, perhaps Ventus would now be able to motivate Slough to stay by that river!
Torrid and his elementals created a vicious sandstorm in the distance that would slowly roll towards Slough and Esau. A few others whipped up dust in the air to shelter the river from the sun's glare. Faced with the prospect of weathering that storm or taking shelter in the shady banks of that river, the Vizier was sure that Slough would turn back and go where he directed. As usual, he flew in close to offer her a breezy respite from the desert sun, and at this point from the worst of the biting grains of sand. He nudged her back towards the shelter of the river, incase she didn't have the mind to seek it out of her own volition.
A turbulent sandstorm appeared out of nowhere for Slough, and its grains flew into the sockets of her eyes and beneath the loose flesh clinging to her bones. She thrashed around wildly, trying to eliminate the marauding particles, while Esau hunkered down against the ground and growled. A few moments passed before Slough, reminded by the prodding of Ventus, turned around with a throttled cry to gallop back toward the river. Esau followed suit, but his golden eyes observed what his master's empty pits did not: the suspicious correlation between a hurtful wind and a windy elemental. Nevertheless he put the thought aside, and accompanied Slough to the bank of the muddy river, where the decaying doe threw herself to escape the horrible, pestering, itchy sand.
Esau watched, his mask contorted into a visage of horror, as the brown liquid turned black. He bunched his legs like springs and jumped into the water, splashing filthy mud all over his red skin and spongey mane. Gingerly he opened his jaws and plunged them into the water. A moment later he began to move backward, and from the oily soup onto the dirt shore he dragged Slough's limp body, not unlike a hunter dragging its kill. As gentle as possible, however, he laid her down, and he whimpered as inky slop streamed from her skull. He paid no eye to the growing grass or the trees that sprouted like weeds. In his singleminded devotion he ignored the pods that swelled among the roots of tall, bendy trunks, and the water-loving land animals that emerged did not receive a single glance. So, they set to their work.
With their spindly limbs Spider Oxen plucked plants from riverside and riverbed alike. Little beasts with fur and scales both frolicked together, though one joined Esau in his vigil. Riverland Thanes slogged through the water, standing at about ten feet tall, on their hunt for fish, of which there was many. Distant relatives of the Fortress Reefbacks crawled slowly along the banks of silt along the river's edge, sucking less fortunate crustaceans straight from the ground. Finally, a new race of creatures, not completely dissimilar from the thanes, worked together to dig burrows in the riverside soul. They used sharp sticks to fish the river and to poke fruit from the branches. Yet none of this received Esau's acknowledgment, until the Rottenbone hacked and struggled to her hooves, filthy but sand-free.
The Crocody Doggle who had been waiting by Esau's side sprang to its feet and bounced around, snapping its teeth and yipping. Slough looked at it blearily. Sensing her attention on it, even if she had no eyes with which to stare, the doggle darted forward and clapped its jaws around her leg, yet her teeth were as soft as silk. For a few moments the doggle mouthed her leg, quiet and loving, before sitting back to pant and loll its tongue. Slough turned her head this way and that, not recognizing her surroundings
Ventus watched with some degree of mixed horror at what he had done to harm Slough as well as satisfaction at the success of his plan. Guiltily, he had joined Esau in doing what he could to aid Slough in her recovery and comfort the pained creature. Torrid had been sent away and the Vizier had done what he could to rid the vicinity of the clouds of dust and sand that remained in the air.
While Slough rested for soem time Ventus was left to observe the fruits of her pain and his labors; the deep river itself seemed to flow more robustly and glow a more vibrant saphire color, the strong blue contrasting the lush, emerald vegetation that had sprung up around its banks. The mighty river he saw fit to name the Mahd, and the lush region around it the Verdant Basin, or simply the Mahd River Valley. Regular and predictable floods of the eternally flowing river would keep the land fertile for all manner of vegetation and eventually farmland, while the constant supply of water would attract life from all corners of the parched Firewind Desert. Zephyrion would be proud!
Now, the Vizier only had to lead Slough upstream to the towering mesas, rugged foothils, and wild mountain crags. Once life had reached to touch those northern reaches, this part of Galbar would be made nearly complete.
No matter how long she spent watching it, Slough really had no idea how to react to the doggle. It ran around her with apparently boundless energy. When Esau grew annoyed by its yipping and held up a threatening claw, the doggle trotted over, jumped up, and likes his pawpads. For a moment it seemed as if the Custodian might growl, but instead the mouth of his white claw mask twisted into a grudging smile. Soonafter the doggle returned to Slough and executed a bow, demanding that she play. A memory stirred within her, and the Rottenbone consented to chase the little dog around for a few minutes, before the unsteady wobbling of her hips and their protesting creaks forced her to stop. Sensing her discomfort, the doggle rolled onto its back where Slough carefully laid down, allowing the ghoul to rest her skull on its furry belly.
Seeing that Slough was in neither mood nor shape to travel yet again, Ventus went against his previous judgement. It would not do to spur her onwards yet again; even now, the guilt of his manipulation with the sandstorm ate at him. No, he would let her have her rest until she was willing to move on her own volition. What was time to an immortal?
The breezy elemental amalgamated his chiffon body back into that shape of a humanoid djinni that he favored, so that Slough and her guardian would be able to see him more clearly. Daintily he crept forward to pet the two of them, hoping to bury any seeds of animosity that might have been sowed.
Ignorant to the machinations of Ventus, Slough did not flinch when the elemental appeared nor when he approached. As his hand drew near, however, the Vizier discovered a powerful, almost tangible aversion toward touching her body or head at all. Only a few seconds' puzzled observation led to a probable cause: the necrosis that coated the Rottenbone head to toe, while seemingly benevolent thanks to its lifegiving tendency, in fact contained other, malignant properties. The doggle, having gnawed on her leg like a chicken's drumstick, escaped the whimsically mutative properties of the rot; a touch of Slough's body, even with the ethereal hand of an elemental, promised to do unknowable damage.
After a few moments passed, Slough grew bored of waiting and began to walk off, following the delighted doggle as it romped between the tall, twisted trees. Esau's glare remained hotter than molten gold for a moment, but he then cooled off and turned to walk after his master. Evidently, if Slough were willing to forgive, and suffered no great harm, the Custodian would forget.
The passage of many bleak and long days saw the unusual group upstream with little event. Here the dune sea that was the Firewind gave way to rocky mesas and rugged foothills as one marched northeast to the Ironheart, or empty steppes and badlands as one approached the Changing Plains. It was in the more rugged region near the Ironheart that Ventus led Slough.
Here was where the source water of the great Mahd river welled up from the black depths of the earth or came down from the mountain peaks in glacial flows. The massive Ironhearts that were the spine of the earth were also so high that they barred the passage of near all wind, cloud, and moisture from the Sparkling Sea and beyond; the rain shadow effect left these foothills surprisingly wet compared to the nearby Firewind, but the other side perhaps as dry as the Firewind itself.
It was amidst the light sprinkle of one of these trapped rainstorms that Ventus brought Slough and Esau to a halt; they sheltered in the dry of a small, rocky overcrop at the slope of a hillock. They were still too far to see the Ironhearts, yet if they had only persisted a small time longer before the storm's coming, they might have seen those nearly plumb spines of rock rising on the horizon. Here was as good a place as any for life to find a foothold.
Ever patient, the Vizier softly spoke, "Dear Slough, perhaps you should find rest here. Be at one with your nature; seed this empty land!" Suddenly aware that as ever, Slough would remain ignorant to his attempts at communication, Ventus sighed as he awaited some sort of response. The flighty goddess had a tendency to be unpredictable to Ventus, even after so much time had passed with him in her company.
In the drizzling rain, Slough found an odd sort of peace. Inexplicably her body's rotting had nearly ceased, and the respite brought on by this unexpected, happenstance mercy impressed upon her a sensation tantilizingly close to joy. Even her skull sported new flesh, inching ever closer to normalcy. Sitting obediently beside her, the doggle thumped its reptillian tail in happiness, being empathetic to the Rottenbone's contentedness. Even Esau seemed pleased. A small but optimistic smile lay upon his mask.
Of course, the power within Slough did not merely fade away. In the manner of a cow's udder, all of the uncomfortable excess had been eked out, and this singularity of life essence existed in a sort of equilibrium. No might remained in it with which to effect the transformation of the wasteland into another haven for life...however, it still yearned to fulfill its purpose. The power itself inclined toward the fulfillment of wishes, of Ventus and Zephyrion both. It needed to create life. As such, even though the deer stood at peace in this rocky alcove, the power inside her began to move.
Her body, previously too full of life-essence, and now in a state of balance, suddenly swung toward too empty.
A tortured cry ripped itself from Slough as she convulsed. Something tore itself from the black pit of her eye; it looked like light, but rippled and crackled like lightning, all in a virulent shade of green. The Rottenbone collapsed like a sack of bricks, broken fragments of the skull around the eye-hole skittering across the stone. Esau thundered to her side, and began to murmur in a low voice to draw her streaming black blood back into her.
Ventus stumbled backwards in the air, nothing having prepared him for this nor for the shock that was to come. His panic was not so absolute that he failed to use his magic to do what he could to protect Slough; a sudden and violent burst of air heaved upwards from the ground to soften the blow when the Rottenbone collapsed.
The chaotic soul, meanwhile, flew out over the foothills in a mad dance, discharging blasts of destructive sorcery every second. Its path over the land grew more and more frenetic as the soul itself swelled, threatening to implode beneath its own tremendous weight like a dying star. It built to the point of no return, a roaring arcane terror, and crashed into a distant hill. Beneath the impact the earth shook, and a tide of green energy suffused the land. Unlike the soft, nurturing green witnessed around the miracles of Slough, however, this green sputtered, hissed, and steamed, like poison.
Except for these noxious noises, the land became swoddled in an eerie silence. Esau, the Vizier, and the horrified doggle all cast their eyes toward Slough and the far-off hill in turns, instinctively anticipating something breathtakingly awful. They were not disappointed.
A bloated shape appeared in the distance. The deer's companions fixed their eyes upon it. In mute fear they watched it squirm, lash, and spit. From its bile pools of toxins began to form, and on the banks of those pools plants grew. These plants displayed none of the norms established by Slough; they grew wild, in alarmingly bright colors, with vines and thorns and other bizarre shapes. Enormous flowers unfolded, pretty to look at, but hiding any number of deadly deceptions from poison gas to barbed tongues to hidden teeth. These were the first plants to eat meat. Creatures no less superficially beautiful but lethal stalked among the trees and shrubs. A jungle swathed the land, but one of venom, not vitality. None of the animals were completely novel; instead, the mutagenic pools frightfully altered existing creatures, like wasps, lizards, rats, and tigers, to suit the vividly perilous aesthetic. Mortals, natural or unnatural, would be changed should they be immersed in one of these pools. Be the mutations baleful or beautiful, they would also be imprinted with the stigma of natural life, and brought into Slough's domain. In a way, the Venomweald better represented Vestec and Zephyrion than Slough--indeed, it was not of her own doing.
For in the center of the Venomweald lurched its sovereign. A wondrous but accursed soul resided deep within it, and only rancor and hunger emerged onto its loathsome exterior. Mighty and capricious in its obscene and violent ignorance, this monster would lurk deep within the Venomweald to seeth for all eternity, spreading its corruptive, changing poison as far as it possibly could. Only the unforgiving bleakness of the desert held the Venomweald Writhe, the First Mistake, at bay.
But there was little to stop its horrid advance towards the one that had brought it into this agonizing and humiliating existence. Already the Vizier could sense impending doom as the Writhe thrashed through the jungle towards them.
Ventus shed his djinni body just like a snake might rub off its skin or Slough dripped her rot, and with what could only be described as the greatest breath he had ever taken, he pulled the nearby air into himself in a great vortex. He exhaled and let loose a blast of wind that rustled the leaves of every wild growth in sight, then breathed in once more. This time even a cloud fell victim to the inescapable pull of his winds, and he successfully and effortlessly lifted the life goddess, her guardian Esau, and the companion Doggle into the air. Their wild ascent might at first be terrifying and nauseating, but soon they would find themselves carefully and gently suspended within the eye of the storm, carried within the elemental himself.
Suddenly the Vizier spotted Maize, that little fibreling through which Jvan had earlier spoken to him. Still, it had remained with him throughout their long journey, usually some ways away but never too far. Its tenacity was remarkable and its master had been kind, so Ventus would do what was in his power to spare its existence.
The Venomweald Writhe was fast approaching even still, so the churning cyclone that was Ventus began a hasty departure. At the last moment the storm swerved towards the fibreling, though unless Maize jumped headlong into the grasp of those turbulent winds, she would not be enveloped quite enough for Ventus to sweep her into the air whilst he moved at such a pace. She would be left to fend for herself against the horrors of that jungle if she did not Maize chose to put faith in the djinni lord.
Regardless, with his newfound shape and the formerly walking band now soaring through the air, it was not long before they were safely out of the Writhe's grasp. Now that he had safety he would examine the Venomweald below and marvel at its savage beauty. Already the overgrowth was expanding and growing so thick that the plants choked out one another. It seemed destined to carpet and consume the entire expanse of rugged wilderness until it was met with the Firewind and the Ironhearts, though perhaps the outer parts of the jungle would be more hospitable than its heart.
The sun had not risen and fallen three times before Ventus had carried his passengers, no, his friends to the only place where he had thought to go: the mouth of the Mahd, where already a large and minerally rich delta was forming as it met the Sparking Sea. True to his promise, Ventus had done as Jvan asked so soon as time allowed him. Perhaps she would see fit reward him still or perhaps she would not, but in the end it mattered not. Ventus would work with whatever tools he had to see to grand completion the tasks set before him: the glory and delight in eventual success was reward enough in its own right. Such was his nature.
Since the incident in Venomweald, Slough had been comatose again. Esau burned with savage rage at the hurt and humiliation of his master, but with a heroic effort managed to contain his wrath to prevent the disembowelment of the hapless doggle, who despite understanding the situation the least somehow enjoyed it the most. When the motley crew arrived at the Mahd river delta, they were settled gently on the soft sand, and again, the two loyal companions waited, helpless but hopeful, for the awakening of their master.
