The Campaign Builder's Guild

captive caption captor captain capo capret, carpet coquette correct cassette corvette

ether evil evening ever eve-err e-z-wear

pitter-patter, sputter splatter, fitting father (forsake)

Gorilla Grodd.

take another loving bite from the appalachian netherwaters of the understanded lechers, sideways on a school bus and holding up both flags with your cigarette lighter face.  hippopotamus herculean feats of Hecate, or at least the witchcraft seismographs of syllogistic yesteryear (or happenstance, harpsichords/holistic harmonies)-- couldn't shouldn't wouldn't press the prescotts for a personal printing of the apricots. smudge, drudge, hodge-podge prodding the pessimistic pests-of-mystic passes, past the passive passages of pas de probleme, monsieur l'inspecteur javert de paris

death, like candy corn, is reviled, only seen on halloween, and is otherwise forgotten

Uptown autocrats unraveling ellipses are bound to unspoken agreement with ursine avatars of elemental expediency. Tock, tick, the clockwork never-say-die approach is reaching critical mass; can you guess who I am? anagram spottings of a John Hancock line-item veto...

there are several rules to surviving in the wilderness of civilization and I shall enumerate three: the first is naturally a prescient succinctness in regards to all dealings with the powers of authority, that is to say, keep your betters and the social ignoramuses who claim to be a calamitous upperclassmen at arm's length because the preacher answers to the pontiff, the poet answers to the patron, the prince answers to the parliament, and everyone knows that at the pinnacle of hindsight is the Executable Branch of government, seeking reprieve from an understated sanguine boom! of the protestant bricklayers guild

Can sir, that is to say cancer is never the answer to a servant of synthetic salivation, or at least according to Pavlov's dog's robot friend the GPS machine known as LAX. most airport security is bunk, but bunker hill is built upon a top of dreidel-like proportions, which ends up sketched out in five different colours in a kaleidoscopic monotony known in ancient times as wisdom. storming, or at least ringing around strom thurmond's grave, is what the Bastille supposes all the prisoners want, at least exacting vengeance when everyone knows that Thermidor and guillotine morality is the slavish endgame of populist fancy; starve enough peasants or at least put enough in jail and eventually your gold-dappled palace that gleams so nicely in the wintery daynight will be seen as maybe extravagant, arrogant, or perhaps elegant. strike previous word.

striking back, the imperial vanguard, or at least the praetorian guard, is prepared in pretense to provide extraneous effort to the sizable elected monopoly, that is the use of violence as a tool as long as we don't have to know about it, hawks, doves, and vultures circle about, waiting for noah to make a call and eat his cake and have a slice of good old fashioned American freedom along with that tall glass of hard-to-believe.

you probably won't even read this, at least not with your heart

Thank you for the positive feedback. I am currently writing the second section of this, which will follow one of the three emergent peoples and their interactions with the Soraed. The other two groups will receive similar treatments later.

"Pandering to the masses" is what's also known as "marketing."

The greatness of a fantasy world is inversely proportional to the number of chainmail bikini-clad women who populate it.

Styx- Big Bang Theory. It is an album comprised entirely of cover songs, some of them actually quite good. Their renditions of Locomotive Breath and Salty Dog are particularly thrilling.

What is your favorite element on the Periodic Table?

Corona. Dos Equis. I suppose you could accuse me of being partial toward Mexican beers.

No further replies, I see.

The term comes from an election cycle buzzword that implied that a simple fist bump between Barack and Michelle Obama was a secret terrorist signal.

I am not making this up.

There are an unfortunate number of typographical errors in this work, so rest assured that any accidental misspelling of names is just that- accidental.

that is all I currently have.

Song of Ishgen
This is the song that was sung by Ishgen, son of Anjolus, when he gazed upon Buronius:
   
O, Lord of Suns and Prince of Sky
Savior from the scourge of war
Who speaks in tongues of joy and flame
   Whose Eyes see through the gates
O, Lord of Souls and King of All
   Returned from saving old Naivus
I seek to know your joy and flame
   And bask in all your radiance

The skies did part, and shadows grew and twisted in their light, as Buronius looked down upon Ishgen with great humor. And in the Tongue of Isoniir, he did speak in song:

   Command do I not war or pain
      To all who praise my name
   Command do I not boon or gain
      To those with acts profane
   To whom does my blessing go,
      With soul of righteous place?
   To whom do I speak to now,
      With eyes upon me fixed?

Ishgen rose and looked into Buronius' great crown, blinded by his glory.

   O, Lord of Light so Pure and Bright
      Blinding in your grace!
   Humble servants are my kin
      Of your resounding face
   We seek naught but great thanks
      For your mighty deeds
   And to know who serves the gods
      And what are their needs?

Buronius then spoke as such:

   In times of War, I slew the beast
      That threatened all peace and still
   Supreme am I, and yet the least   
      Compared to great Cazil
   Of Death and Time, I am no King,
      For I have seen true hate
   The task of all who dare to sing
      Is to guard my gate.

Ishgen, torn by fear and joy, then sang with his heart:

   I am yours, sweet Lord of Light,
      In life, in death, I serve just you
   I implore you, Lord of Light,
      As sure as shadow slew:
   Tell me all of Soread,
      Of gods and of sky
   I shall preach your story and
      Hold your name as high.

Buronius, moved to passion, said with fiery tongue:

   Luria, brave Queen of Night,
      The Mistress of the Moon
   With her silver hair and light
      Shields the midnight tunes

   Calixet, with valor set,
      Guards the Armory
   With his hands he does protect
      The stars and harmony

   Keoginax, of rotted bird,
      His heart decayed and black
   Was wounded and was thus deterred
      By Cazil and his pack

   Last of all, my favored son,
      The Grey Prince Dethinus
   Heir to throne of flame and sun
      He shall make commands
   When all my kin,
   Generation,
      Finish our cycle.

And with great praise, Ishgen recorded those names of Soread which Buroinus had spoken, and praised the Lord of Day and Light for sight and for great deeds.

Part three: Zovolen

The Daimar had given Uanos a body of Washar, a mind of Qaliman, and the heart of Naivus in the days of the Naborine, when War was first begotten. Though Naivus was not cruel, the Heart of Naivus longed to return home, and was corrupted into hatred and misdeed. When Buronius cut the Heart of Naivus from the shadows of Uanos, the shadow of war had receded, hovering above the ice of Tybalth-Nur. But as the Verizor began to split, the empty heart of Uanos filled with lust and greed, and the shadow longed to be fulfilled. No longer wholly Uanos but still of Uanos, the shadow took the name of Zovolen, which is to be without Heart yet longing for a Heart within the words of Tybalth-Nur.

   The Mevarian had been blinded to the shadow by the Eyes of Wazan Gath, as Lutriuven, Learinthicus, and Lazerosaad exchanged words on the divisions of the Verizor.

'To be compassionate,' Lutriuven had said, 'we must create a Guiding Spirit which will ease the minds of the Verizor.'

'To be wise,' Learinthicus had said, 'we must create a Spirit Wall which will ease the passions of the Verizor.'

   'You both have created your spirits, and both have failed to ease the Verizor,' spoke Lazerosaad. 'Through the Eyes of Wazan Gath, I can see to know what is best for Verizor, for Mevarian, and for Soraed. Leave me this task and I shall succeed.'

   Lazerosaad then begot the third of three Spirit Guardians, the Azkanix, spirits of great knowledge. The Azkanix were nine in number, and held an ordered rank, with each given names and realms by Lazerosaad: Nerosaad of Soread and of the sky, Ikensaad of the sea and of Daimar, Talisaad of Verizor and of the earth, Vulensaad of words and of walls, Pythensaad of minds and thoughts, Orosaad of souls and spirits, Luridsaad of wisdom and of sight, Sisalsaad of space and of time, and Xeivorsaad of life and death. To understand the Azkanix was to understand the forces of Perann, and Lazerosaad sent his Guardian Spirits to the Verizor.

   The Isoniir heeded the words of Talisaad, of Vulensaad, and of Sisalsaad as sacrosanct, and used their knowledge to build great palaces for both Azkanix and for Kandos, who named himself Krio-Anjolus, which is to be the Knowing King of All He Sees in the words of Isoniir. It was then that the Isoniir were not of the Verizor, and the peaks of Cazjinoor wept with tears of ice. Dalaz and Vanash told Learinthicus of this truth, but none were moved to act.

The Dalivor took the words of Nerosaad, of Pythensaad, and of Xeivorsaad as threats to self, and used their knowledge to build great weapons to war against the Sanozil. Cathruz-Kraxus took the name of Krio-Santoliz, which is to be the Deathly King of All He Sees in the words of Dalivor. It was then that the Dalivor were not of the Verizor, and the fields of Evalzur screamed with hateful winds. Urat told Lazerosaad of this truth, but none were moved to act.

The Auraeil heard the words of Ikensaad, of Orosaad, and of Luridsaad and were moved to pious life, respecting all the Spirits and their kin. From the Azkanix, they obtained the knowledge of their self, and grew apart from the Dalivor and from the Isoniir, their hearts and minds and souls all rooting them to the Forests of the Sashavel. They named the spirit Azanath as Krio-Azanath, which is to be the King of Forest Sprites and All He Sees in the words of Auraeil. It was then that the Auraeil were not of the Verizor, and the forests of Sashavellus fell silent as the winds no longer swayed. The Sashavel told Lutriuven of this truth, and he looked on in horror with the Eyes of Wazar Gath.

'Brother,' spoke Lutriuven to Lazerosaad, 'the Azkanix have severed all the bonds of the Verizor, and now Washar shall tear itself apart!'

'Lutriuven,' spoke Lazerosaad, 'do not question the Realms of Knowledge, for they shall prove to save Washar from peril and from Xanaviel.'

And so Lutriuven showed Lazerosaad the cloud of Zavolen that hung above the Dalivor, the withdrawn thinkers of Auraeil, and the hubris of the Isoniir. Lazerosaad spoke no further of the matter, and Lutriuven then turned to Learinthicus.

'Brother,' spoke Lutriuven, 'the Azkanix will bring war and fear to all of Washar, and have already split the Verizor!'

'Lutriuven,' spoke Learinthicus, 'do not fear for Washar, for the Sanozil shall guide the wisest of the land to settle all in peace and wisdom.'

And so Lutriuven showed Learinthicus the storm of Zavolen that grappled all of Washar, its empty heart longing for the hate of Isoniir, of Dalivor, and of Auraeil. Learinthicus spoke no further of the matter, and Lutriuven then turned to the Blinding Gates.

'I shall seek the Soread, to warn them of this evil,' spoke Lutriuven, though none could hear him go. With a flash of Wazar Gath, Compassion fled from Perann as Intelligent sons and Wizened fathers prepared to go to war.

Zovolen learned to shape his form to please those to whom he spoke. In the lands of Isoniir, he was of stone and grit, and spoke with whispered words of jewels and names of iron. Zovolen convinced Krio-Anjolus to give away the souls of all in Isoniir in the name of War for wealth. In the lands of Dalivor, Zovolen was of sand and silt, and spoke with whipping words of dust and names of smoke. Krio-Santoliz  gave freely the souls of all in Dalivor to Zovolen in the name of War for power. In the lands of Auraeil, Zovolen was of soil and root, and spoke with thunderous words of grain and names of oak. Krio-Azanath, lost without the love of Lutriuven, gave begrudgingly the souls of all in Sashavellus in the name of War for wilderness.

And though he held the souls of all the peoples of Washar, the heart of Zovolen remained as empty as before. The blood of all who were the Verizor began to flow along the lands of Washar, as the Sanozil and Sashavel and Azkanix turned to the Kings to serve as Generals. The Dalivor destroyed the homes of the Isoniir, while the Isoniir stole from and killed the Auraeil. The Auraeil pierced the Dalivor with the weapons of the Azkanix, and soon Zovolen had swallowed all.
Learinthicus and Lazerosaad had pleaded with the Spirits, but the calls of the Mevarian went unheard within the cloud of war. Learinthicus hid the Vartuman beyond the Blinding Gates, for through the Eyes of Wazan Gath he saw what Zovolen would become if he held the soul of Vunaie. Without the Vartuman, the war continued onward, strengthening the hold of Zovolen.

Lazerosaad left the Eyes of Wazan Gath at the Blinding Gates and spoke to Zovolen. 'From where comes this Spirit, made of War, who seeks only to fill his empty heart?'

   Zovolen spoke in blood with names of violence. 'Knowledge has its price.'

   'There is no Knowledge to which I do not hold,' spoke Lazerosaad.

   'You covet then the Knowledge of my self? I do not give it without a price,' spoke Zovolen.

   'Whatever price, I shall pay,' spoke Lazerosaad in tongues of flame.

   'Then behold,' spoke Zovolen, plucking from Lazerosaad the Heart which comes with Knowledge. 'I am of Uanos, and of Daimar, and of Soread, and now of Mevarian.' With blood and souls and beating heart, Zovolen cast Lazerosaad into warring Washar, into the stain of Perann.

   The Blinding Gates of Wuzan Gath opened from outside, and Learinthicus stood idly by, for there was no wisdom in this war except to stay above it. Returning from the folds of Kethon, Krio-Buronius entered the skies of Perann and trembled with great fury. Lutriuven was in his arms, murdered by Xanav.

   'Enough,' spoke Krio-Buronius in the tongues and words of all Washar, taking all the Vartuman into three strong hands. From Zovolen he took the souls of the Spirits and of Washar and tore them from the Shadow of War, piercing them with light. Zovolen struck back in hate, blinding Buronius with his claws of malice, and Buronius cursed the name of Lazerosaad as he plucked the Heart of Knowledge from Zovolen. Scarred and defeated, Zovolen withered and rotted, burned into all Washar by the light of Buronius. Using the Vartuman, Buronius split Washar into three, scattering the pieces across what were the seas of Qaliman.

The Tribes all praised the name of Krio-Buronius and held him above all other Spirits, and he returned the souls of those who were the Verizor. He swept away the Sazonil and the Azkanix, and commanded all the Soread to watch over sky, sea, and earth. Buronius cast the soul of Lazerosaad outside the Gates of Wazan Gath and shut them with great force, and renamed Learinthicus as Learthus, which is to be of Learinthicus yet less than Learinthicus in the words of the Soread. The body of Lazerosaad, despite the curse of Buronius, lived and yet did not, for now he thirsted for blood as though Zovolen. He took the name of Lazarus, which is to be of Lazerosaad yet less than Lazerosaad in the words of the Mevarian.

   Buronius buried Lutriuven in the Forests of Sashavellus before, alongside the Soread, he began his rule of the sky, seated on his solar throne.
   And so began the Buronian Age.