Underrealm, Mustang Duchies, Entrance to High Pass

  The group had come to the end of the journey on Hark Dwain’s steamboat. It had been a fruitful week filled with worries and anxieties. Sir Frederick and the others had a chance to examine themselves, and their lives, and got to know each other better. The companions even came to know Hark Dwain very well, and the complicated relations his people had with the Kingdom of Lions. But now they had reached their destination, and it was time for them to return to the surface.

  As they disembarked Hark pointed them to the staircase that would lead them back to the surface world, informing them that "find the circular rock, press it, and then leave before it automatically shuts to prevent any more surface dwellers from reaching the Underrealm". In a single line, they began their ascent. Thankfully, the staircase was lit up by bioluminescent fungi that showed the way.

  After what seemed like an eternity of climbing up the stairs, they made it to the door, cleverly sealed as to seem seamlessly melded to the stone. Sir Frederick found the right rock in the wall, and after twisting it, the door began to lift, revealing the outside world for the first time in a week. As they emerged from the rocky piece of terrain, they noticed that they were right next to the Insurmountable Mountains, a chain of mountains that was impossible to scale, except for two passes, the wide and even Coastal Pass on the shore of the Clustered Ocean, and the High Pass a narrow and treacherous path that separated the northern duchies from the southern duchies.

  The High Pass, impossible to cross in the winter, was long and winding, climbing high on aglorified goat paths, above cavernous ravines that went all the way down to the Underrealm. It would take a week of travel to safely make it across the High Pass if they were lucky. Hark had given them enough provisions to see them across. Other than the Insurmountable Mountains and the High Pass, they were surrounded by the vast sweeping plains of the Mustang Duchies, known as the Grass Sea.

  The families of the Mustang Duchies were known as the Horse Lords, whose holds were akin to glorified stables rather than defensible castles. The families of the Mustang Duchies chose to do all their fighting on the vast open plains, where they would have an indisputable advantage. Among the Duchies, the inhabitants of the Mustang were a bit odd in their behavior, having strange gatherings where every adult got a chance to talk to their lord as if they were equals, even being allowed to voice criticisms and concerns.

  Even odder, they practiced a strange form of magic no one else in the Kingdom of Lions practiced. It was known as Spirit Calling, the practitioners merged with entities from one of the Spirit Realms and sought to alter the world around them through the summoning of animistic spirits. While peculiar, it was a power that no one scoffed at. At the Battle of Ten Thousand Tears, the Mustang wiped out the Viper Army by summoning insidious spirits of depression and self-loathing, leading to a mass suicide in the Viper Army.

  Many inhabitants of the Grass Sea had skin that was brown with a reddish undertone, and straight black hair, like the humans who lived past the Western Pass which led out of the Kingdom of Lions. Though unlike the humans of the West, who seemed to have an aversion to other foreign humans with appearances outside their norm, the inhabitants of the Grass Sea possessed greater overall variety and an acceptance of the rainbow of human phenotype diversity.

  Though perhaps the oddest feature of the Mustang Duchies, was that it was also home to the Eternal Summer Vordaiin Forest, overseen and protected by House Veligan. The Fae of the Vordaiin Forest were wild and unpredictable, one second sharing a feast with you, and the next hunting you like a wild animal, only to forget that you even existed the moment they caught up to you. In this, they were less predictable than the Autumn Fae but were more likely to be less malevolent, most of the time. One still did not want to get chased by the Wild Hunt led by the Summer King. Though fortunately, none of the companions would be going anywhere near that strange realm.

  As they caught their breath at the top of the staircase, Francesco went back in and pressed a stone on the far wall, before quickly hurrying back as the rock came back down sealing the passage. With the passage sealed up, they made for the High Pass, which would normally be deserted, except today someone appeared to be standing in front of it.

  To be specific, it was a man on top of a giant red wolf, the size of a warhorse. The man wore the outfit of a dandy, black and green with a silver trimmed cape and an extravagant wide-brimmed and stylish hat. The fellow had a handsome and friendly face, hair short and auburn, with tinted spectacles.

  His only weapon appeared to be a rapier hanging from his side. The wolf noticed the group long before he did, and a quick growl from the wolf alerted him to the fact that they were not alone. Turning his head, he noticed the group as they made their way toward him. Giving them a warm smile, he waved in their direction.

  “Hello fellow travelers, how do you fare, I am Count Johann Kristoff von Claus of the House of Claus.” And sure enough, emblazoned on his chest, was the brown wolf that represented the House of Claus, the diplomats, historians, and logistical masters of the Wolf Duchies. House von Claus served as the moderating force between the stern and humorless von Klinge’s and the wild and savage von Reinhardt’s.

  They were also the only house with the temperament necessary to represent the Wolf in the noble courts of the Kingdom of Lions. All other attempts to employ either a Klinge or a Reinhardt had ended disastrously, and the less said about the one time they attempted to have a Schwarzwald fill the role, the better for everyone reading. “I am seeking to cross the High Pass; would you like to come along as my companions? You seem to be a well-armed and provisioned group of travelers and the path itself is narrow and dangerous.”

  Sir Frederick, as always, spoke for the group. “Greetings Count Johann Kristoff, I am Sir Frederick of the Order of the Empyrean Blade, and these are my companions, the Lady Madeline de Garnier, the Gentlemen Damian Diotrephes, Lady Bridgette Sullivan, Brother Hezekiah, Ragnar, Warrior of the North, Mr. Francesco and Ms. Carmen. We are journeying north to inform the houses of the Wolf Duchies that Wall Visalia has been breached and that all aid is needed to help turn back the tide.” Count Johann Kristoff sized him up, seeming to recognize and know him even if he did not acknowledge a previous tie. However, Count Johann Kristoff was a skilled diplomat, so he chose not to bring this up, as a matter of courtesy.

  “Well met, I am coming back from a meeting with Arch Duchess Renate van Graff on behalf of Archduke Heinrich von Klinge, you can accompany me to the Wolf’s Den. I take it that we will have much to discuss. A bit of a warning however, I am known to be a bit of a chatterbug, so I do hope that you enjoy conversation.”

  “Oh, we enjoy conversation quite a bit, illustrious Count. I take it you have many stories to share, perhaps you would let me do you the honor of composing a ballad of your many journeys?” Carmen asked him, never being one, to forget her manners when around a noble she did not know who might take offense to be treated with irreverence.

  Count Johann Kristoff blushed at this, “My fine maid, there is no need to compose a ballad to my many illustrious assignments, despite my title I am a humble diplomat at heart, in service to the glory of House von Klinge and all of its vassals, though I do have many stories to tell.”

  Francesco looked like he was about to gag, unlike Carmen he was quite irreverent, and unlike the Count, he was most definitely not modest.

  “Sir Frederick,” Count Johann Kristoff called out, “I would like to speak with you in private for a moment before we begin our journey.”

  Count Johann Kristoff got off his wolf and indicated that Sir Frederick should follow him a fair distance away from the group.

  Once they were far enough away the Count dropped the smile and friendly demeanor and got straight to business. “Duke Friedrich, do you think it wise for you to return home? I know your grandfather will be delighted to have you back, but your sister Katrina and Uncle Johann may take exception to your presence. With you out of the way, they were already jockeying to be your grandfather’s successor.”

  “I’m aware of that, but the information I carry is too vital for me not to go, I need to convince the nobles of the Wolf Duchies to rally to House Galdwin in its hour of need.”

  “While I can respect that, you seem to be overlooking two important details. One, the fact that you gave up your title and any claim to the title of Archduke, and consequently lost the respect of the nobles, great and small. While many at court understand your reasons, such a dereliction of duty is frowned upon by our people.”

  “I know what they think of me, but I must make them see, hopefully, my grandfather will back me up.”

  “I am sure that he will, though he may not be enough, which leads to my second point. As you know, even though we won the most recent War of Acquisition for the Bluegrass Valley, House Galdwin once again refused to recognize our rightful ownership of those lands, the fourth time he has done so despite our fourth victory. Everyone who lives in our lands, from common folk to the highest nobles, is furious, the refugees from the Bluegrass Valley, who were looking forward to returning home, are the most furious. War was coming soon anyway, with your sister and uncle agitating for it. And who knows, the nobles might decide that the Kingdom will be better off with the Galdwin’s out of power?”

  “I know that my people are angry, but now is not the time for petty squabbles over land disputes, now is the time for us to fulfill our ancient oaths to the crown.”

  A dark look came over Count Johann Kristoff’s face, “If you knew the pain of your people, you might not be so quick to rush to the crown's defense.”

  “The people of the Wolf are no longer my people, I serve all the people of the Kingdom of Lions now, instead of lording over a duchy of them.”

  “You serve all people, but the people of the Wolf Duchies.” The Count smirked at Sir Frederick before once again putting a sincere smile on his face. “Come, your companions are waiting, and I can’t wait to hear the tale of your journeys.”

  With that, the group got together and began their journey through the High Pass. A dangerous trek for the unwary, but not impossible for a group of their size.

  Methuselah’s Tower

  Elizabeth was not having a good time. A week had passed, and she was growing infuriated with her captor. They had dived headlong into her education, and she had proven to not be the type of student they were hoping for. Though to be fair, they had proven to be a poor teacher.

  Things had started well enough, with her focusing on her inn to manifest her power. Elizabeth had reached the point where she could easily summon high-powered streams of mead from her hands, and once out of her mouth, but that was about it. Methuselah tried to get her to cast a sleeping spell since inns are places where travelers can rest, but all she ended up doing was creating a rain of comfortable mattresses that fell all over the place. While they found it amusing, they did feel the need to criticize her, calling her a dumb cow before turning her into one for a few hours. The verbal and magical abuse was bad enough, but they did not even hold back when it came to combat training.

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  The first few times they had her fight him had proven to be a disaster, as every weapon imaginable was uncomfortable in her hand and she had neither the strength nor constitution of a fighter. Methuselah decided for combat training he would turn her into a Chren-Zul, without her permission, as usual, since they possessed the natural physical strength and constitution that she lacked, much in the same way that her Haelm form helped her channel her magic better.

  Methuselah was not wrong, she was far more durable in her Chren-Zul body, but it did not help the fact that they kept changing her against her will, into the form of a creature she was decidedly not comfortable with. Right now, they were going through standard fighting stances in her Chren-Zul form, before he decided to end their session early. “Today we have a special guest who wants to meet with you,” Methuselah told her. “I promise you will enjoy the visit.”

  “Is it someone who will save me from this prison and your intolerable teaching methods?” She asked and he ignored.

  “No, even better, it’s the goddess Ariela. I wanted to hold off for a while before introducing you to the deities, but since she is your patron, or was your patron, she insisted on meeting with you as soon as possible.”

  This news served to make Elizabeth feel better, she would finally be meeting her goddess in person, something that she had always wanted to do. Perhaps she could be convinced to help rescue her from Methuselah.

  Methuselah’s Study

  Elizabeth had gotten herself presentable for the meeting, with Methuselah lending her a beautiful dress they had for some reason. After making a few magical alterations, she discovered that it fit her perfectly. Settling down into a chair, she waited for the arrival of her goddess.

  Ariela casually walked into the room, wearing a short blue skirt and a top that left her belly and arms exposed. She had nothing on her feet and her dark blue hair had seashells woven into it. Her caramel skin glistened in the light of the room, and she looked at Elizabeth with aquamarine eyes and a mischievous smile. “Hello, my dear, I’m happy to meet you in person.”

  “It is an honor to meet you.” Elizabeth got to her knees in submission, and Ariela just let out a little laugh.

  “Get yourself up off the ground, there’s no need to prostrate yourself before me, who do you think I am, Alnardun, Terra, or Robernu? I like to keep things informal and more personal.” Ariela helped Elizabeth back into her seat and plopped down into an armchair of her own. “I’m here today to get to know you better. Even though for most of your life you’ve been under Lenera’s protection, I never had any doubts that you would come to me on the day you came of age, you are very much like your mother, though I have to say that you lack her sense of humor.”

  “Wait, my mother has a sense of humor? That cannot be, I modeled myself after her.” Elizabeth was a bit perplexed at this.

  Ariela smiled once again. “Cheryl was wild and fun in her younger days, before meeting your father and having you. Cheryl knew what I was about and what I promoted, living a life filled with wonder and adventure.”

  “But I too have tried to follow your teachings.”

  “In many ways you do, that is you follow me in my aspect as a merchant, banker, giver of hospitality services, all those fields of work considered too grubby or lacking in character by the nobles, skilled tradesmen, and farmers of the world. However, I also represent sailors, fishermen, shipbuilders, gamblers, rogues, rakes, lovers of life, adventurers, and those who buck social convention and seek to bring about a revolutionary change in the world.”

  “I am the voice of the marginalized and oppressed, a rallying cry for all those who yearn for freedom and wish to find prosperity and happiness in the world. I have many aspects, but they are all me, it is just that most people choose to dedicate themselves to one aspect of me. In a sense, you are not wrong or false in your faith, it is a part of me, but it is a small piece of a much larger whole. It is not that I am the patron of certain groups of people, I am those groups of people. However, I am not just one aspect that you can pray to and ignore the others, to know me, you must learn about and understand all my aspects, you must learn about everything I stand for. Take what you need but know that I cannot be placed into a box.”

  Elizabeth put her head down in shame, growing up she had heard similar sermons preached to her, but she always ignored them in favor of trying to focus on the aspects of the goddess that she considered valuable. She ignored the whole and created and worshipped an image that was only part of a much larger puzzle.

  “Though to be fair, most of my aspects tend to mesh well together and have great synergy with each other, limiting some of my internal strife. My brother Robernu has aspects of himself that are completely out of sync with each other, such as his peaceful scholar and ruthless conqueror aspects. This can create some internal strife for him, which I think contributes to his overall belligerence to the world. I’ve tried to help him, but he can be so stubborn at times.” A look of sadness came over the goddess’s face. “I just want him to be at peace with himself.” Realizing that she had gone off on a tangent, she brought herself back to the discussion at hand. “But my brother can be a topic of discussion for another day. Right now, we need to focus on you. How are you doing child, are you coping well with the changes in your life?”

  At this, Elizabeth spilled her guts out to the goddess, who was alarmed and furious at what she told her. Seething in rage, she demanded that Methuselah show themself, and they did, with an annoyed look on their face.

  “How can you treat your replacement with such cruelty?” She furiously asked them.

  “I’m going with what I thought was the most viable teaching method. She wouldn’t cooperate with me at first, so I had to take some heavy-handed measures to bring her here, and now I need to use heavy-handed measures to help her learn, and she is learning, she’ll resent me in the short term, but in the long term she’ll appreciate everything that I have done for her.”

  “Have you ever actually taught anyone in your life Methuselah? Students respond better when you aren’t shaming, humiliating, and abusing them.”

  “I wouldn’t know, no one taught me, I just got handed the job one day and told to go at it. So, I would appreciate it if you did not criticize my teaching method so much. Arthur never complained, and we know how well he turned out, so there is a method to my madness. So, unless you have something constructive to add, I’ll be on my way.” And with that Methuselah disappeared in a flash.

  “Methuselah can be as stubborn as my brother, which is kind of funny since they hate each other so much. I will talk to the other gods, and see how we can intervene on your behalf because the way they are treating you is unacceptable. While they must train you, if I can get a majority of the nine on my side, we might be able to hold them accountable.”

  “I would greatly appreciate that Ariela.” Elizabeth had another question that she wanted to ask. “So, is it true that the world isn’t 1000 years old?”

  A wry smile came across Ariela’s face. “I would have hoped that the answer would have been obvious by now, but I guess it’s hard to let go of old beliefs. Yes, the world is in fact over 25,000 years old, though time before the first Guardian can get a little fuzzy for me, everything was far more malleable back then, and time was more subjective. It’s not my place to tell you why your people have embraced Young Sabarian Creationism, the King of Lions had his reasons for what he did, even if they were idiotic. Don’t feel any shame at having this belief, we believed many things before we knew better.” With that Ariela and Elizabeth would converse through the rest of the day and into the night, it was the happiest Elizabeth had been since she got here. Sadly, this would be the last time she felt true happiness for a while.

  Zarathustra’s Tower, Bear/Peacock Border

  The horde was crossing over from the Bear Duchies into the Peacock Duchies at the Gergiev/Garnier border, they had not faced a real challenge since a week ago as they swept aside all opposition. Cornelia and Mari were hanging out in Cornelia’s room, painting their toenails, and spending some valuable time together. Cornelia was painting hers black with a white skull design, while Mari was going for white with a bloody red knife on hers.

  “So, Cornelia, I know why Ludwig joined us in the Wastes, but it’s something you’ve never talked about. Now that we are going full-out against your people, would you like to share? I’m sure you just weren’t south of the wall for our beautiful scenery. “

  Cornelia looked at Mari with mismatched eyes, analyzing her, and she decided to finally share her tale with someone other than Ludwig. “Technically speaking, while my surname is Penelope, I am a bastard. When he was a young man, my father met this beautiful woman on the edge of the swamp that bordered his land. My father knew nothing of her except that he was entranced by her, and they shared a night of passion. When he woke up the next morning she was gone, never to be seen again. At least, not until his wedding day to his betrothed. That was when she reappeared, this time with a baby in her arms, claiming that he was the father. One look at me and everyone knew the truth, despite my mismatched eyes, I looked just like him. My father took pity on me and legitimized me, which infuriated my stepmother to no end, she would dedicate her life to making mine as miserable as possible, always trying to push me out of the way to ensure that her children inherited and that I got nothing. My father, being a weak passive man, let this go on.”

  “In the land of the Moth, it’s considered a fate worse than death for a noble child to be born without an ability to perform High Magic, so, of course, I had no talent for High Magic. My father’s duty was to defend the Penelope family vaults which contain many dangerous magic items, and a guardian with no magical ability was no good for this task. The only happiness I felt was when I walked by the edge of the swamp where my father met my mother. As the years went by, I felt drawn to that swamp, like it was calling to me, though I was always afraid to enter.”

  A sinister look came across her face. “All of that changed one day, however, when a miraculous event happened. Some divine force chose me as the instrument of their will, and at the price of shattering my already sickly health, I was imbued with divine necromantic power. I put this power to use and got my vengeance on my horrible stepmother and half-siblings. Unfortunately, my father did not appreciate me turning his family into my undead puppets, and he put an end to it. So now he was faced with a conundrum, he still loved me, and he could not bring himself to kill his only remaining daughter. So instead, he chose to throw me into the Waste and hope that my weakened body would not survive the hardships I would face. From there I met up with Ludwig and we have been a duo ever since. Ludwig helped me learn to control and master my power, and he even helped me develop a means to sustain myself through soul consumption as my powers drained me of my life force. I had been hoping to have a more intimate relationship, but fate had something else planned it seemed.” Cornelia had a mildly morose look to her now, Ludwig was one person in her life who she felt close to.

  “Don’t feel so bad, I’m sure there are plenty of nice boys out there for a young woman as beautiful and talented as you. As for me, I’m going to continue to forgo the bi-annual Grib orgy and instead seek to court the big man himself, Zarathustra.”

  Cornelia raised an eyebrow at this. “How would that even work, as far as I know, he doesn’t have anything essential to the making of love.”

  “Cornelia sweetie, there is more to love than physical intimacy, try not to be such a Chren-Zul about these things. We both can bond over our mutual love of sadism.”

  As Cornelia was pondering this, her curse kicked in. Whatever event that bestowed powers upon her also bestowed a curse. Not only did it destroy her physical health, but it would also periodically drain her lifeforce and age her exponentially. This is what happened to Cornelia at this moment as she grew into an old woman.

  Cornelia knew a method to reverse the process and bring her back to a younger age. Though, it involved devouring the souls of sentient beings. Initially, she had found the process of soul consumption to be disgusting, but over time she had gotten used to it and had even come to savor each soul. Cornelia had even taken to baking souls into cookies to hold on to them, to be consumed whenever she needed them. Cornelia reached into her bag and grabbed one cookie shaped like a young woman. Cornelia devoured it and restored her youth but destroyed the woman’s soul in the process.

  “You know, I heard that the northern witches use a similar technique to stay young.” Mari was used to the curse by now, though she did find it fascinating.

  Cornelia just smiled at her friend. “Where do you think Ludwig got the idea from?”

  Chroniclers Notes

  God Shards

  While higher-level deities are immortal and eternal, they’re not invincible, and injury can be done to them. When this happens, God Shards, like Cornelia, are created. A piece of the deity lands in the physical world, where it will often attach to a mortal, granting them a portion of divine power to call their own.

  Unlike Divine Callers who can safely channel the power of their patrons, the bodies of God Shards were not meant to handle such an infusion of divine energy. Therefore, most God Shards did not live more than a few years, unless they found a way to counteract the effects on their bodies, the divine power would consume and kill them.

  In Cornelia’s case, a shard of the Neca-Ra aspect, The Queen Of The Dead, lodged itself into her, granting her impressive necromantic abilities. This came at the price of draining her soul and aging her. What started as a slow and barely noticeable process only got worse as time went on, and if it were not for Ludwig’s aid the power would have consumed her from the inside out.

  So now, to live, Cornelia had to devour the souls of other living beings, destroying them in the process. The more she consumed and the longer she existed, the more souls she needed to sustain herself, acquired at a much faster rate.

  While it is not my place to condemn or condone her actions, I can at least respect her desire for self-preservation. I leave it up to you, the reader of my notes, to judge for yourself if she was in the right or wrong.