Letters from Ambassador Tukufu

Cousins, Comrades in Arms and all Gentle Readers,

Is there a need to discuss Gin Ho Cove further with you? It seems clear my friend the Bounty Hunter would have me write about it. Yet unless you are a Khitani ship captain it is unlikely you know or care about this remote local; and even they avoid it when practicable. Gin Ho has a reputation as being dangerous and mysterious. Stiil, I am intrigued by mysteries and would appreciate further exploration. So, to borrow words from the elorii Vaise, “if you lack for diversions” perhaps you might be motivated to go take a look if the chance arises.

The cove is located well to the west of the plateau of Dagda and the First City. The area in general is referred to as the Ghunlud by the Chauni nomads and the Floodplain by just about everyone else. During winter months this area between the Khitau and Ataqu Mountains floods deeply enough that ships can sail almost to the very doorstep of the First City. During the summer it is dry like the rest of the badlands that surround the First City.

It is an inhospitable place. When covered with water there are the odd hazards from submerged rocks that can hull a ship. In the summer fresh water is hard to find except in the odd brackish mangrove oases that dot the land. These floods are seasonal and described as being caused by the moons. I myself am doubtful since the moons cycle through many different phases each year. Yet the tides operate on a predictable yearly schedule. What truly synchronizes the tides is, at least in my mind, an open question.

The area has a certain reputation to the superstitious. I can understand this. Occasionally Khitani ships sink en route to the First City. Imagine the next summer crossing a barren land of bleached stones and finding a shipwreck in the middle of the dessert? Or consider instead some of the strange fossils that are said to stick out from the eroded cliff walls. Or strange lightning storms in winter as the Tide begins to come in.

For the faint of heart these things might be disturbing.

Far better that travelers focus on the real dangers. There are the usual suspects. Bandits. Pirates. Gar. Voie. The Kurenthe cursed weather. Then there are the giant amphibians.

The more numerous of these are the Gillicar. These monsters are roughly horse sized carnivorous “toads” that can swallow a man whole. Worse they are covered in thick camouflaging plates that turn swords and allow them to strike from ambush. I have never seen one of these things, which is not uncommon! Many only see them briefly before being eaten, and if traveling a group too dangerous to be targeted, I’m told it’s possible to pass within 30 feet of one without seeing it.

The other amphibians of note are the Cyclopes. These degenerate offshoots of the ancient Eladru primarily dwell underwater and are perhaps taller than their land bound kin. At least this is the impression I receive from reading the accounts of Sir Armind Gerhard Tildighast. Sir Armind left to us a rather enjoyable book called, “Investigations of Onara” that detail this and other adventures. In part, my own Letters are modeled on the records he has left us. Sir Armind reports that the cyclopes venture out in sufficiently foggy or humid weather. They are also reported to be carnivorous and willing to eat people if they can spear them with their giant tridents.

In the summer, if you can survive these hazards, then you might reach the cliffs at the end of the Floodplains. This is where you will find Gin Ho Cove and the Sea of Lanterns. In the winter this area is presumably submerged. When the cliffs are visible it is said to be clear that they have many caves and “balconies” set with ancient foundation stones. The most common source of these reports comes from Khitani sailors. These hardy mariners are known to use Gin Ho and the lee of Lanzhou Island as shelter from storms.

This area is suspected to have been the site of Saamurkond, the Eladru’s ancient capitol. Saamurkond was eventually cast down into the sea by some calamity. In some versions of the ancient tales the city was razed by angry Gods. In others it is ancient Ssethrics who destroy the location. I personally favor the Ssethric hypothesis.

There are stairs carved into the cliffs, and into the caves on Lanzhou Island. Where do the caves go? No one has made an accurate assessment. But I would not be surprised to discover some connection to the pervasive “Endless Dark.” Perhaps these caves even lead into the feared section of the Endless Dark known as the Lavender Way.

That concludes the facts I know about Gin Ho Cove.

Now, is this site really the ancient Capitol of the Cyclopes? It should not take a magical Third Eye to see that there are many other ways this conjecture could have its foundation resting on sand. Lacking first hand experienced I am not in a position to offer an expert opinion. Nor do I know exactly why a certain gnome is convinced the Celestial Giants are connected to this site. Much less his fantastical claims of a Chamber of Immortality or Godhood.

In the gnome’s defense, and I offer this very reluctantly, there is some evidence that there could be a significant connection between the Eladru and the Celestial Giants. Some of the journals left by the Heroes of Light make mention of murals or mosaics that contain Eladru and the Celestial Giants together. The mural most commonly described has these figures around a so called “World Gate.” This is from the quest to recover the Spike of Eternity that ultimately took them to the elorii enclave of Ravan Tindal. In my own travels to the dwarven enclave of Nol Dappa I have also seen a badly degraded mural showing the Cyclopes in battle against a gargantuan foe that might be a Celestial Giant. Or not. It was badly degraded. King Leoducis generously granted me a later audience but could offer no insight on interpreting what I had seen in the outer mines of his city.

How the gnome has made his “intuitive leap” from this scant scintilla of knowledge is not a topic I am losing sleep over. Honestly I just assume its all part of his paranoid fantasy. Nor am I particularly concerned that Ymandragore sets its agenda based on one crank’s guesswork. Or any one writer’s scribbles. Still, who knows what might be learned from a serious exploration of the site? It has mysteries yet to be plumbed.

I remain your obedient scribe,

Tukufu, Ambassador of Altheria

Comrades at Arms and all Gentle Readers,

Now this is an interesting inquiry! Vaise brings us two different questions for consideration. They are: What would a val’Ossan be doing in the desert? And do val’Ossan have blonde hair? Happily I have more to offer on these points than her last question. So let me essay explanations.

The first query is the shorter. While I can’t really know what this individual was doing, I would guess some variation of the quest for Yarris’ Pearls. These sacred objects were gifted to humanity at the dawn of the First Imperium, much as Anshar made a gift of the Gates and Altheris gifted man with a common language. History and legend give us a list a total of nine Pearls, each with a potent and unique power. Unlike the larger Gates, the Pearls are portable. I am sorry to report consequently that in this day and age they are mostly been stolen. The 3rd and 5th Pearls alone reside here in the First City. I have seen one of them and it was roughly the size of my head. I do not exaggerate. If you are lucky enough to attend service in the main Temple to the Pantheon during a major holiday, perhaps like Unavocce then you might see them and verify this for yourself. It is well known that the Sea Lords of Yarris quest constantly to seek out the seven Pearls that are lost to us.

I concede this is all speculation on my part. But it’s an educated guess. I suppose that it’s also possible that the individual in question was also seeking the Ssethric line known as the Sand Apothics. Or simply lost. Still I like the odds of a Sea Lord questing after the Pearls. On a wager I know how I would bet.

A more difficult question is if the val’Ossan family really has a bifurcated phenotype?
The shortest answer is to just to say yes. The val’Ossan family does indeed exhibit two different phenotypes. The val’Ossan of Milandir have black hair. The val’Ossan of Coryan, mostly in the southern province of Salantis, have blonde hair.

But how can this be? I feel sure all my readers know that members of the major families have very similar appearances. The val Virdan and val Emman invariably have red hair. The val’Holryn run to brown with waves or curls. The val Assante are blond. Barring disguises, one can reliably identify most vals’ bloodline at a glance. And in my experience most cousins within a val family look as if they could be brothers.

But the val’Ossan bloodline proves to be an exception to that rule. To my knowledge this duality is unique. So one might ask why they are different.

One possibility is that the val’Ossan’s appearance has diverged as a result of differences in the surrounding populations. For example many Coryani run toward blonde. On the surface this seems possible. But look more closely and the answer is not very satisfying. In Milandir there isn’t a preponderance of people with inky black hair. So why are the val’Ossan’ of Milandir raven haired? And the red hair of the val’Virdan does not change between Canceri, Erduk and the Coryani populations. Neither does the typical appearance of the val’Dellenov family despite the distances between Panari and Lustia.

So I assume something else is at work.

There is the old Yaricte heresy of Salantis. One might suggest that somehow the Coryani branch has been influenced by outside forces. But I wouldn’t say such things loudly in Salantis! I dislike this as an explanation. On the one hand it seems a slur against val’Ossan who are, to all appearances, perfectly upstanding. And on the other hand it is hard to perceive how the Yaricite Heresy could possibly lead to blonde hair.

So again, I assume something else is at work.

I can think of one other possibility, but I would almost prefer not to speak of it. Last fall as Shadowfast approached, I wrote of the ancient First Imperium and the event known as the Bloodwar. What a dark chapter of history! One can easily understand why it is mostly forgotten. This civil war in the First Imperium pitted the val families against each other.

If one knows where to do research there are still documents of this time. They suggest that there were once many more val families than exist today. These documents also tell how rituals were discovered that let all the bloodline families from a specific god steal bloodline powers from each other. The grim story devolved even further into cannibalism, when it was discovered that two who partook of such an atrocity could use the ritual to pass on the stolen bloodline powers to their descendants. In the war for supremacy a terrible winnowing took place. If a family did not flee to the most remote parts of the Imperium they either “won” or were destroyed.

Yuck. I do not need a third eye to grasp the horror of such a war must have been unimaginable.

Though an event of the far past, I believe echoes of it reverberate to this day. Consider the children of Nier. We know that the val’Virdan and val’Emman have been rivals since the dawn of the Imperium. In the Bloodwar they were unable to triumph over each other. Still I believe the impact of the Bloodwar can be seen in their bloodline powers. Uniquely among the val families, the val’Virdan and val’Emman share many of the same powers! Despite their different lineages. You do not find this among the val’Dellenov and the val’Haupt. One can only assume that their bloodlines were comingled during the Bloodwar.

What if this process were taken further?

We return to the val’Ossan families. Could it be possible that during the Bloodwar two lineages descending from Yarris might completely merge their set of bloodline powers? As a hypothesis I find it intriguing. Once the bloodline powers had merged there might not be any reason to continue their portion of the larger conflict beyond matters of personal revenge or feuds. In the eventual peace that came they might have consolidated under one name even as their hair remained different.

This of course is speculation on my part. Perhaps wild speculation. But I know of no other satisfying answers at present. So I offer this you with humility and acknowledge that it could very likely be wrong.

Should any of you find further information on this subject I would be grateful to hear of it. In the mean time I wish you all safe travels. I remain your obedient scribe,

Tukufu, Ambassador of Altheria

Friends, Cousins, Comrades at Arms and all Gentle Readers,

How quickly your fate can change.

It was not long ago that I was celebrating my good fortune. I joined what seemed to be a minor throng of “adventurers” who laid down their swords long enough to tie knots. In a veritable whirlwind I courted and married the lovely Belinay, one of the Tormal Khan’s nieces. People I barely knew came out in drove to congratulate my good fortune. At the ceremonies in the Great Cathedral the crowd was almost absurdly large and they all but showered us with their good will and often extravagant gifts. As an only child, whose parent had died fighting the elorii invaders, I found it all rather overwhelming. Still one should never to object to song, drink and dancing! It may be that I was happier in those endless moments than at any other time in my life.

I continue to count my blessings. But as day follows night, bliss turns back to concern. This is the first of several letters that concern my most recent travels.

Let me tell you of Ymandragore.

Fool that I allowed myself to become a pawn in the schemes of the more powerful. I received an invitation to meet agents of the Sanctorum in Milandir. We met near a port which I found somewhat brazen. I thought, “Why make it easier for agents of the Sorcerer King to sail us away to the Isle of Tears?” Ah, but that was exactly the point. The Master who spoke with us had a “daring plan.” Which is to say he would be staying behind and we would be doing the daring. And of course as it should now be obvious it involved an infiltration of the Isle of Tears. There was a tight timeline and we’d be sailing immediately if we accepted on a captured Black Ship.

You might ask why I didn’t politely excuse myself at that point in time and return to my wife. It certainly would have been the smart thing to do! The thought crossed my mind. But at the end of the day I am an explorer and a scholar. I might never get another opportunity to see the Isle of Tears first hand.

I don’t know why everyone else signed on. To my immediate right was Marcus Tullus val’Mehan, the younger. A mouthful to say but actually a close friend of mine. We fought our way through most of the Crusade together. Sneaky Patracian that he is, I trusted him completely to have my back. Past him was Ceres val’Dellenov. I had previously fought besides Ceres as well. In fact I teased Ceres when I first met her that the very first thing she did after getting married was to abandon her husband and ride hard for Jappa. Now I was in similar straits. Past her was an agent of Cadic who I believe will wish to remain unnamed. To my left was Vincent of Ven’s Brood. From scholarly correspondence I knew Vincent a little too. And finally there was Belthazor val’Mehan who claimed to be a lot older than he looked. I was ready at first to put it down to bragging on his part, but he did have an archaic and outrageous suit of armor scribed all over with the symbols of Sarish. So I reserved judgment.

Our Sanctorum hosts had captured Illak Laurol. He was one of the leaders of the finger known as the Twin Whispers. I had never heard of this organization. None of us had. It became clear that the first whisper was into the finger’s ears and then the second was them manipulating events by whispering in the ear of someone else. I suppose they were the Sorcerer Kings spies and influence peddlers. Illak certainly presented himself as such, imperious as any monarch, even in chains. I admit I found him somewhat intimidating and was horrified to learn he was familiar with my letters. I did my best to retreat into the guise of a dilettante. I hope to achieve some level of fame as the greatest researcher of this generation, but really I don’t need such people thinking of me. At least Retsev Rah isn’t sending me correspondence.

It seems that the leader of this finger, one Syriah, tried to blackmail the wrong person on the Isle of Tears. Ouch. The results of her intrigue were brutal and as a result the Twin Whispers was all but destroyed. There would be a Fete where the mansion and headquarters were officially transferred to a new finger with the ritual death of Syriah. The beneficiaries? A new finger called the Chorus of the Venerable Word. During the Fete where this transfer would take place it might be possible to sneak into the manse and liberate an item called the Oculus. A relic of some power. Of course no one in the known lands, including Illak, was exactly sure where the Oculus was hidden … besides Syriah.

So when we got there it was obviously going to be an interesting night: trying not to get caught, finding where Syriah was held, and getting her to tell us where the Oculus was hidden…and escaping off the Isle.

It was clear to me that Illak wanted to poke the new owners in the eye and deny them the Oculus out of spite. It was less clear why the Sanctorum was involved until it was revealed that they thought the Oculus could be used to locate their absent founder Nurion the Undying. I was surprised to learn that Nurion had not been in contact with the Sanctorum for centuries. I had always assumed he was somewhere four or five layers back in the shadows monitoring and manipulating things. A very interesting tidbit of information.

Well, we hemmed and hawed a little bit. We talked about contingencies. Linguistic challenges. Assets we could lay our hands on. But I don’t think we ever seriously debated the merits of not going. I know, it sounds foolish in the extreme. I know I wanted to see the Isle and perhaps reveal some of its secrets here in these letters. I wonder in retrospect if perhaps the Sanctorum managed to subtly manipulate our minds?

No matter. We agreed to go. Our cover would be as the very lowest of the Fingers: The Hunters of the Black Night, also known as the Demon Hunters. The Hunters of the Black Night by and large are not Eldritch spell casters. As such, while technically a Finger, they are looked down upon and barely ever are spoken too. Apparently the most “economical” way to secure new infernals for the Black Ships is currently to “harvest” them too. One wonders what they did before the fall of the Gods Wall? I suspect they must have summoned them all.

An agent of the Hawk & Shield waited outside to take us to the ship for a three day sail.

The Black Ship. I could write a monograph to you about the Ship alone. It is said that the Black Ships are made from basalt mined in the interior of the Isle of Tears but I suspect this is untrue. Beyond the fact that basalt does not float this material is far stronger than ordinary stone. I tried repeatedly to get a sample of the stone for alchemical testing. But all I achieved was a bent dagger. I failed to free even the smallest of “stone” chips. Whatever the Black Ships are made of, it is not a simple matter of something from a quarry.

This Black Ship was essentially a schooner with two masts, modified with 10 large oars on each side. I have heard wildly different tales concerning the vessels from Ymandragore. Some describe them as juggernauts up to three hundred feet in length. Others describe them as humble affairs, no more than 30 long and 10 to 15 feet across. This was maybe 90 feet long and 25 across. In a fog it might not have seemed remarkable.

In the hold of the Black I found the infernal rowers just as rumors say. Each oar had two Inferni devils working it. They did not even look up as I passed through the room on my first inspection. All somehow bound. But not a mark of Sarish among them. . I would guess that the binding of Ymandragore must originate from a unique Tradition they’ve researched over the long years. Given the existence of the Hunters of the Night I would guess it is less efficient than the style of binding magic practiced by the Sarishians. Is this guess true? Alas, I discovered many new pieces of information but I was unable to delve deeply into any of them. If you ever go to the Isle maybe you can ask for me.

The first day on the vessel was largely uneventful except for the captain politely asking me to stop trying to chip off a piece from the hull. I smiled, said yes and shamelessly came back that night. I was attacking the stern with a crowbar in another futile attempt to gain a “stone” fragment for testing when I realized I was not alone on the deck of the ship. Up at the prow in the night mist stood an individual in a wide brimmed hat. The crew was nowhere to be seen. Having read several of the journals of the Heroes of Light and their adventures involving the Chalice of Midnight I immediately had my suspicions. I woke my Sarishian companions before approaching.

Almost I would leave this part of the tale out. But a few of my companions have already mentioned that Loshnek himself deigned to put in an appearance. I would be exaggerating if I wrote that my pen shakes as I write his name. But I still. Loshnek. I do not know what, if anything, he would wish me to say of his conversation with us since it touched upon his own goals and agendas. But I have no wish to give offense. So I ask your forgiveness if I am less forthcoming than usual in my reporting. Suffice it to say that Loshnek has long shown an interest in the Isle of Tears and was sufficiently interested in our captured Black Ship to take note of us. He did not disapprove of our mission and provided logistical support of his own. He granted us improved credentials, which would say whatever we wanted them to. In a back handed way, provided other support since as Demon Hunters we would be expected to arrive with a hull full of infernals.

Just as Loshnek explained this he faded away. And another ship loomed out of the fog and rammed us broadside. Even as we caught our balance and shred a look of confusion infernals stormed over the hull promising to rend our bodies and free their bound brethren…

Bear with me. More will be explained soon.

Tukufu

Hello Eric,

Very enjoyable as always!

Good job!

Honored Ambassador,

I have recently come into some confusion about a creature called a “voiceless one.” Can you share anything you might have found in your studies about such creatures? I sure I would find anything you can share highly enlightening. Though I would understand if this is a topic too sensitive for your usual dispatches, as rumor seemed to indicate they were rather dangerous.

Thank you,

Your graceless student,

Kavaris

My friend Kavaris and interested parties,

Having survived a visit to the Isle of Tears and the second sacking of Tultipet, what I crave most at the moment is a chance for some down time with the things that are most important to me. I would love to curl up with my wife Belinay on the rooftop balcony of Litera Scripta Manet and watch the sunset. Or I could dust off my copy of Nerius the Elder and laze away an afternoon in contemplation. Instead I see your letter on the top of my stack of correspondences. “I have recently come into some confusion about a creature called a “voiceless one.” Can you share anything you might have found in your studies about such creatures? I am sure I would find anything you can share highly enlightening. Though I would understand if this is a topic too sensitive for your usual dispatches, as rumor seemed to indicate they were rather dangerous.”

Oh Kavaris. Rather dangerous? If only you really knew.

It might be best if I could summon enough chutzpah to deny their existence. There is certainly no shortage of scholars who are willing to dismiss them. From a certain point of view I can’t blame them. The Voiceless Ones are supposed to be the Centurions and Knight Captains of a secret conspiracy that has tried to slowly bring about the end of everything. That is understandably a tough sell. And some scholars who suspect otherwise might not want to advertise.

Unfortunately I have seen one, admittedly at a distance with Clairvoyance. So I know the Voiceless Ones are real.

Here my distaste for mendacity and deceptions skirmish with own my sense of self-preservation. You are right. The Voiceless Ones are a dangerous topic to research. Bad things tend to happen to people who go looking for detailed information about these adversaries.

Consider Darius Gracchi. He was a fine scholar. Darius used the Gracchi’s fortune and influence to mount several expeditions of inquiry. These inquiries began to concentrate on what might be broadly described as “Psionic Monsters,” and for a time he was probably the foremost authority on them. Darius and his loyal companions explored from the edges of Dhar Zhan Vor to the tunnels bellow the Blessed Land. His expeditions documented the Kraael, a type of crystal golem and the Obnu-il, an insectoid race. Among others. And Darius, I am sad to say, gained the attention of the Voiceless Ones. That quickly became his end.

Darius quit or disbanded the company of his armed companions. A very mysterious choice. Darius then returned alone to the caverns beneath the Blessed Lands. We know this because Darius kept a spectacular journal. Many fragments have been recovered and are collected and studied in the Great Library of Tralia. They do not tell a pretty tale of Darius’ end. Darius abandoned his earlier clear prose to ramble. His last entries are a confusing series of justifications for his erratic behavior under a number of implausible theories. He traveled alone to “protect” his former companions. He had to go into the tunnels to “just see.” He talked of “gathering intelligence” to warn people. The journal disturbingly ends mid entry as he described a half seen talk lanky creature cloaked in Cadic’s shadows.

My conclusion on reading the fragments is that Darius was under mental compulsions and he was forced to rationalize any number of excuses to conceal from his consciousness how he was drawn in like a fish on a line.

So, first among the Voiceless Ones salient abilities we should list their superior skill with the Arcanum. There is some debate on whether they use psionic or elder traditions in manipulating the Arcanum. Perhaps they use both? Or perhaps they have their own unique traditions that merely overlap with teaching that we are more familiar with. However they do it, the Voiceless Ones must be acknowledged as powerful telepaths with mastery of the Control tradition. The Voiceless Ones are also masters of transmutation and deception. During the efforts to recover the val’Emman mentagi and a First Imperium standard some of the explorers assembled reported an encounter with one of the Voiceless Ones initially disguised flawlessly as an elorii.

Physically these creatures are uniformly described as tall. Usually they are also described as skinny or lanky. But they are easily as strong as most warriors. Voiceless Ones naturally have claws worthy of a Singarthan troll and a carapace that is superior to lorica segmentata or a gothic cuirass. They have no eyes. Descriptions of their mouth vary. Generally it is accepted that the jaws unhinge in a strange way that allow them to bore through the skull even when protected by a steel helmet. Physically we can conclude that they are more dangerous than all but the most elite warriors found in the known lands.

We know that the Voiceless Ones have fought the Singarthans to at least a standstill. There are rumors there has been conflict with Ssethregore as well. So they are not random “monsters” but part of a society that understands logistics and is capable of long term goals. And they are control forces sufficient in numbers to thwart powerful armies.

There are a number of lesser creatures who serve them.

The insectoid creatures called the Obnu-il are skilled in deception in their own right. When Darius and company first met them, they thought they had found a lost enclave of dwarves. And there is reason to believe that it was Obnu-il who masqueraded as elorii “Servitors” in the now destroyed city of Ravan Tindal. The Obnu-il practice the Arcanum through psionics and are powerful in their own right.

Puppeteers may originate from the Voiceless Ones. These smallish “slugs” or “worms” attached at the base of the neck or head and influence the actions of their host. One document I have seen suggests that people under the influence of these creatures do not blink as often as a normal person would. But I have never encountered such a creature.

Finally those who went to the Vault of Larissa reported a Gar Shaman with psionic powers and a constant “scream” that the awakened felt. There are stories that the Voiceless Ones sometimes permanently enslave other and bind them to their will. In this process the thralls receive more limited psionic gifts. So I would be wary of any “normal” individual who uses psionic powers to wield the Arcanum. They might be a tool of the Voiceless Ones.

Their known vulnerabilities are limited. Like vampires I have never heard of them to be active under the light of the sun. There are also a few psionic powers from the Heritage tradition that all psionically active vals all share. These powers seem specifically tailored to fighting such creatures. The best known of these is the Gladius of Light. Alas I have not personally learned how to manifest such a blade.

All together these limited facts and stories are not fully illuminating. But if you ever do face a Voicess One I recommend focusing on escape rather than combat. Voiceless Ones have many minions; they are masters of mind control and subterfuge. So if you ever encounter a Voiceless One, it is almost certainly on ground of its own choosing and it has every advantage it thinks it needs to kill you. Or worse.

I remain your obedient scribe,

Tukufu, Ambassador of Altheria.

My new friends from Plexus,

Uberto, it is a joy to read your missive, and pleasure to make your acquaintance! And I want to thank you for sharing your grandfather’s tale. I have made a fair study of the lives of the Heroes of Light and the Coryani Civil War. So of course I am well familiar with the tale of how Patrician Anora val’Tensen and her children were kidnapped. Those events led directly to the assassination of General Menesis and almost broke the Rebel faction. But for Darius val’Tensen and the Heroes of Light, history might have pivoted in an entirely different direction and the world might be under the thumb of fallen Manetas.

The story of The Hara’mia is also known to me. During the attempt to rescue Anora I believe the heroes traveled across the planes to the part Underworld most directly ruled by Neroth. It was there that they conversed with a strange giant chained to a pillar of rock. Most accounts I have read are vague, confused, or conflicted. Many versions claim the participants tried to ignore the Hara’mia until it summoned opponents to attack them. At least one account suggests Reygan Rath, a known Mourner and pawn of the Silence, tried to free the creature.

I hardly know what to make of this account of the Hara’mia. Your Grandfather’s record is quite frank. While I rejoice to have such a clear retelling I also want to urge readers to exercise great caution in interpreting the words of the Hara’mia. I would take nothing it said at face value. Still, I find several points worth contemplating.

The first is the tale of creation itself. Though many assume that the Pantheon of Man are the creators of the Universe there is actually nothing in the Illuminated Scrolls that directly supports this belief. Instead there are brief allusions to a Creator which died in the act of creation. So there is nothing in the Illuminated Texts that is directly in conflict with the Hara’mia’s claim that it predated the Pantheon of Man from some forgotten earlier age. Indeed the Planes of the Forgotten, hypothesized by Nerius the Younger, are filled with all sorts of ancient and deadly horrors.

Far more contentious and curious is the claim that its people, the Khi’faree, were dominant across Arcanis from furthest Antiquity to the End Times. That would mean not only no First Imperium but also no empire of Ssethric creatures. And if there was no Yahsremore subjugating the continent of Onara, then there was probably no creation of the elorii race either.

Can you imagine such a world?

This timeline is then essentially erased by the Pantheon of Man, which the Hara’mia describes as defying Paradox. I find the claim of Paradox the most intriguing of all the things said. I suspect that this claim means that in the Hara’mia’s original timeline the Pantheon of Man either did not exist, or existed in some other form from the Deities which travelled backwards in time. Perhaps they created the conditions that would lead in turn to their own creation? If so the Pantheon of Man has defied causality to create a tautological loop. These are big thoughts that make even my head spin. But we only have the Hara’mia’s words on this, and perhaps it lied. Certainly it was no friend of mankind.

Two other items are worthy of reflection.

The first item is the “brother” that was spared by Cadic. The Hara’mia claimed it fled to the Plane of Shadow. It is well known in the Holy Texts that Cadic travelled, much later in time, to the Plane of Shadow to help restore Illiir. And that while there Cadic told the first lie and struck down the Lord of Shadows there. One assumes from the Hara’mia’s account that Cadic let the “brother” go so that he could become the Lord of the Shadow world, and die at the appointed place and time.

The final item is Leeata of the Whispers, the Hara’mia’s “younger sister.” What became of her? Does she still exist somewhere? It is impossible to answer such questions. I know of one group of philosophers who contend that the Pantheon of Man is less of a true family than an alliance of Deities. These philosophers contend for example that Yarris might be older than the other members. These beliefs sound heretical to me. But I am intrigued by the idea that this Leeata was absorbed into the Pantheon as one of the younger members. The only possible candidates would be the “Gentlest” who was destroyed and absorbed by the Other or perhaps Larissa.

So much to ponder!

What this story brings home to me is that the Pantheon of Man is prepared to go to any length in the defense of mankind. As a follower that humbles me. But a sliver of fear is laced through that humility. The End Times will eventually come. And for the generation that has the misfortune to be born then will have to make monumental efforts and perhaps perform monstrous acts to secure any kind of future for mankind past the looming Silence. May that reckoning be a great many more years in coming.

I remain your obedient scribe,

Tukufu, Ambassador of Altheria

Gentle Readers,

I seem to have acquired a new letter opener from an “admirer.” I am tempted to think that this might be a further wrinkle in the activities of a certain gnome. But I don’t think he can easily reach that high on my door. I have a bounty hunter frienemy who has also insinuated threats in the past. But he would have gone on and on at greater length.

It would appear this is a new critic.

I never really know what to do in these situations. Well, other than to stake out the door of Litera Scripta Manet for a few days to seek what shakes out. That I have to guard my bookstore and home is irritating, but honestly I more or less do that anyway. Even when there are no strange threats being leveled t me from one corner or another I have to worry about petty and not so petty theft. Sometimes I find it all a little bemusing because I sit across the street or in a bar, or on a roof and just people watch. Look there at that man there with the eye patch! Is he suspicious? Or look at the woman with two children. Maybe if I was a really clever assassin I’d hire two urchins from the Pearl for the day?

Me being me, I am afraid I enjoy spinning out increasingly implausible stories in my head.
Given that the content I of the missive I received I am going to assume I’ve offended someone who thinks they speak for some secret society or another. Those societies spin their own implausible stories too. Worse they live in a world of secrets and so rarely get a chance to check their facts. Not that the most extreme of them ever want to.

Such is the power of belief.

Sometimes I wish everyone would just identify themselves so we could talk it out over a few beers in a dive bar. Or if violence is inevitable, it could we go through the predictable cadence of the “monkey dance” as we wind ourselves up properly first. I’ll call you a name. You can call me a name. One of us will push the other and Bang! We go at it. But then again I found out a man named Illak from Ymandragore was a reader, so maybe there are some people within this circle of letters that I don’t want to share a drink with.

A very depressing thought.

For all the secret handshakes and code words it has been my impression that few of the secret societies are actually all that monolithic. It was just a generation ago that the Sanctorum was penetrated and its members divided against themselves as factions of the Hawk and Shield. That was an extreme case orchestrated by Lucius Orarta, but the two sides worked directly at cross purposes. Given that members of the Hawk and the Shield must have had some idea who each other were I’m a little bit surprised it didn’t result in ambush and clandestine war. Maybe they are tightly bound by their hatred of Ymandragore and that limited incentives to fight amongst themselves. Or maybe they just got really lucky.

The various groups under the banner of the Mourners of Silence are even worse as I understand it. The Mourners are essentially split three ways. One is a group of philosophers I understand that you can actually have a conversation with. Then there are those with an axe to grind against the corruption within the Mother Church. And finally they an extremist wing that likes to act out. Supposedly they’ve been around since the fall of the First Imperium or the rise of Eryunell but I find such claims suspect. What could keep such divergent groups together for so long? Why haven’t the radicals turned on the moderates for being soft? Why haven’t the reasonable ones kicked out the most radical elements for blackening their name?

Alas, I don’t know the right secret handshake to really research that area in any meaningful way.
There is the rare day when I feel like I should organize these letters into a secret society. For those of you who love archaeology as I do, maybe we could call ourselves the Mystic Brethern and Shovel Bums. Or if you’re following the Prophesies of the Coming Destroyer maybe we could call ourselves the Foes of the Coming Apocalypse. But then we’d be hip deep in the secrets game too.

I’ll keep a secret if it’s necessary to protect someone. But overall it’s been my experience that progress is fastest when people willing collaborate openly. So I remain your obedient Scribe and share my thoughts freely with anyone interested in listening,

Tukufu, Ambassador of Altheria