[Project 1301] The Biatonian Festival (A wide variety of updates)

[Elven Doritos]

A quick preface: I have decided to start working on Red Valor: Project 1301 again (for those of you not in the know, check out my website), though some of the previous elements (including the Kynornian pantheon) are going to be altered or omitted in this new effort. Significant changes to the previously established metaplot are in red. The portion I have up is a primer for the next important chunk of information, which some of you might already have a guess for what it is.


----
It had been a most unusual spring.

On the day of the Year-beginning, the grave of Maximelius Detrivan, a military genius-turned serial killer-turned Kettan Emperor, turned up empty. The marks indicated that something had clawed its way upward.

Seven days later, a maelstrom battered an isolated island chain purported to be the new residence of Kamon Rikomi, the legendary Thunder Swordsman. Only ruins remain of his once-impenetrable fortress.

On the thirteenth day of spring, two bizarre circumstances occurred simultaneously on opposite ends of the continent. A fleet of ghostly ships was spotted in a still-frozen port in the north by an entire townâ,¬,,¢s population, while a vibrant port city along the southern tip of Aarington was battered by a raging dust storm. Both cities were purportedly covered in scarlet light for thirteen minutes and one second.

Twenty-six hours later, the flags of thirteen fortresses were replaced by an outdated Artorian flag. Each fortress was in a different nation, and the phenomenon could only be observed for two minutes. An Artorian Coat of Arms was discovered in the sparse rotunda where Artorius Somonus is honored.

Thirteen days later, thirteen vampire lords became possessed of extreme paranoia, running out of their lairs at high noon. Upon the death of the most prominent vampires on the Tare, warfare was assumed to break out among the forces of the undead. An hour after midnight, a burning column of energy attracted a host of over one thousand three hundred remaining vampire scions, each of whom has yet to be seen since. The column of energy was reportedly in the Blackfang Forest, where the dread vampire Lazarus was rumored to have been spawned.

Thirty-one days before the Biatonian Festival of the summer solstice, ten sets of triplets were born simultaneously in the city of Darkhaven, each bearing a different sigil on their forehead. The children were all unusually placid, despite being in perfect health. The sigils were later identified as passages from the Dancardas, an obscure book of prophecies penned by a lone madman claiming to be the shadow god Tharak.

On the eve of the summer solstice, a tribe of Treants traveled outside of their grove in the Beastlands and laid siege to Baronport, the thirteenth largest city in the Tare. The trees appeared to speak in some previously unknown language, and a traveling druid managed to evacuate the city. In just thirteen hours, the cityâ,¬,,¢s largest ward had become overgrown by plants, encompassing what was once the largest shrine to Draven on the Tare. The Treants were gone by the time the festival was due to start.

All of these mysterious and seemingly disparate circumstances were merely the herald of a larger event, a cosmic realignment the likes of which had not been observed since Krio-Rionisis, King of the Rionian Pantheon, disrupted the Millennial Cycle. Although various demon-worshiping cabals and mystery cults had existed since the times of Krio-Buronius and the aftermath of the War of the Ancients, never before had the scope and abilities of these cults become so expansive.

When divine magic was restored in 1288 RA, the Rionian clergy reasserted its dominance in many nations of the Tare. After a series of scandals and inter-religious quarrels, it soon became apparent that anyone with the appropriate devotion and spiritual power could wield divine magic, a troubling fact to the functioning machinery of the revived Rionian regime.

Soon, a single Rionian Church was formed, the various worshipers of the gods having consolidated their dwindling religions into one. Rumors spread of the death of the Rionian deities, a rumor that was regarded as heresy in Rionian-controlled locales. Sicloria in particular demonstrated no tolerance for such idle thoughts.

Therefore, the events that culminated with the Biatonian Festival of 1301 were more of a catalyst for what would come rather than a cause. One hour and one minute past noon, the traditional beginning of the ritual to honor the sun god Biaton, the purpose of the eleven disparate events was revealed.

They were omens.

----------------

More will come over the next few days, as I intend on using my spare time to hammer out some of these ideas. Feel free to leave comments on what's here, or to speculate, decry, or wonder.

~ElDo

[Matt Larkin (author)]

I don't think I had read most of this before (the red is the only new stuff)?

I like the vampire part.  That certainly has me wondering what is going on.  The intro with the empty grave is also a good way to draw in the reader.

The style feels a lot like a 3rd person limited perspective (common for fantasy, anyway), which makes me wonder who the "narrator" is, or whether that was your intent.

As far as the new red material goes:
"It had been a most unusual..." - I'd say this line is what really sets the 3rd Person limited feel of the narrator.  It feels like something a character would think, which I like.  I think it's also good to know this is all happening across one season.

Divine magic - to say I'm not fond of divine magic would be putting it mildly.  However, it seems you have some kind of plot tied to this (I vaguely remember something about dying old gods and coming of new ones, but it's been a while since I've looked at the site), and I respect it more for being tied to a story.

"Sicloria in particular..." - I don't know enough about your nations for this to mean much at this stage.  The impression this gives is of a very religiously centered state.

Glad to see you're back to work - I had been beginning to wonder if you had dropped the setting.

[Elven Doritos]

theocracy[/url]. One of the valid concerns with my writing style is that I typically assume familiarity with the content, something I've tried to avoid by including the occasional descriptor ("a Kettan Emperor," etc.).

Glad to see you're back to work - I had been beginning to wonder if you had dropped the setting.

As had I. It's good to be back, too... Expect the event, its players, and its repercussions (whether it be in the historian's voice or in a rules-impartial one) to be described shortly.

~ElDo

[Ishmayl-Retired]

I want to hear more about the significance of the vampire lords, as well as this undead war and cosmic realignment.

[Elven Doritos]

Vignette One: The Empty Grave.

[ic=Alec]   Alec Broggen was one of the few who remembered the True Way, before the lies of paladins and wizards clouded the minds of the Kettan Empire. The death of the One True Emperor, Maximelius Detrivan, was nothing more than an Incorran conspiracy, the schemes of mages and priests who coveted the throne as their own. Was it not extraordinarily convenient, therefore, that their kind infested the heart of the once-proud Rhodon City soon afterward? That the puppet delegation designed to justify the relevance of this regime was overwhelmingly biased towards the half-Vestinite and his elven master?

   And where had that brought the Empire? Surely, it supposedly flourished, the self-righteous government expending all of its resources to further economic success and human dignity. But Alec knew the truth of this vile existence, and he was banished to the horrible prisons of Xallus for trying to spread it. Only through violence and blood can the Kettan throne be won, and Alec Broggen would be damned if a halfblood paladin of Sicloran would pervert the Kettan ideals.

   So Alec was content to fester within the walls of wretched Xallus. But more and more, the putrid lesser racesâ,¬'the goblins, the gnolls, and other pathetic beastsâ,¬'began to overrun its walls. Such pathetic ambitions for equally pathetic creatures. Alec would have pitied them, if they hadnâ,¬,,¢t disgusted him so thoroughly.

   Were it not for these mongrels infesting his political prison, Alec would have been content to serve his exile in the spirit of Ketta. But the presence of their shamans, their sorcerers, their mystics, and their adepts sickened him. These warped monsters were manipulating nature to their whim, bubbling disgusting potions and spreading their filthy â,¬Å"curesâ,¬Â to the honest, intended inhabitants of Xallus. They channeled their horrid energies, building an army of brainwashed servants.

   Alec knew the teachings of Maximelius Detrivan, and he would not be so easily swayed. Taking one of the few weapons that hadnâ,¬,,¢t been forged by dirty goblinoid hands, he escaped the prison through a combination of determination, guile, and unfettered homicidal instinct. He was unafraid to exterminate vermin or those who wallowed with them, a trait that Maximelius would likely appreciate.

   Outside of Xallus, Alec was alone, exposed to the elements, and entirely vulnerable to the assault of the beasts of the north. Nearing starvation and suffering from severe hallucinations, the only thing keeping Alecâ,¬,,¢s battered body from succumbing to his circumstances was his hatred. Not just of the lesser races, but of the perverted mages, the warped clerics, and even the horrid gods themselves.

   Hatred could only take him so far, however. Eventually, even the strongest of wills must submit to the protests of flesh, and Alec saw the world spin into an empty blackness one last time. His anger faded into oblivion as he felt the last vestiges of life ebb from him. Only the tiniest spark of life remained as his mind plummeted into the recesses of a coma.

   But then something truly sacred happened. The wraith of Maximeliusâ,¬,,¢ own power exploded within Alecâ,¬,,¢s mindscape, empowering him with the strength of body to match his strength of will. Sure, it was three clerics who stood over him now, having conspired to likely corrupt his body with their magic. They even had the audacity to claim that it was through their power that he had regained his vitality. Alec quietly accepted their lies, displaying a false gratitude to them. At midnight, he cut each of their hearts out while they slept, burning their garish monastery to the ground afterward. He didnâ,¬,,¢t even have to look back once, the screams of their sheep like a symphony to his ears.

   And so it was the same from then on. The slaying of a mage one week, the death of a vicar the next, it mattered not to Alec. He had a solemn duty, one that could no longer be denied him by mongrel elves or dwarves, much less by the corrupt users of magic. He gleefully butchered any of the animals that crossed his path, the burning hatred in his eyes the only omen of his conviction.

   Alec was overjoyed when he reached his destination, the tomb of Maximelius Detrivan himself. It was here that he intended on communing with the wraith once again, his intention to act as guardian and servant to his murdered masterâ,¬,,¢s ambitions. He would ensure that none of Maximeliusâ,¬,,¢ enemies would be able to defile the Emperorâ,¬,,¢s corpse, using their magic to corrupt his purity.

   But the grave was empty. Alec vomited at the sight of the battered tomb, the exposed gravedirt, and especially the open coffin. As once before, Alecâ,¬,,¢s entire purpose had been thwarted by his lessers, and the physical revulsion caused him entirely too much pain. But before he gave into his weakness, he felt a looming specter above him, two burning voids for eyes searing through his being.

   Alec grinned as the spirit assured him of the hidden truth. The fading wraithâ,¬,,¢s words flared within his mind even as the room began to spin again. â,¬Å"Maximelius is not here, he has risen from the dead. He is now more pure than ever.â,¬Â

   Ã¢,¬Å"Good,â,¬Â Alec cackled. â,¬Å"He shall redeem us all.â,¬Â
[/ic]

[Matt Larkin (author)]

I think it does a good job of drawing the reader to wonder what some of these places and peoples are like that they inspire such reactions in Alec.

As you say, it assumes a familiarity with the setting which can leave those of us that are less so a little confused.  However, this can be a good thing, as well, as it certainly adds verisimilitude.

You capitalize "True Way."  Is that an actual religion and not just Alec's delusion?

[Elven Doritos]

You capitalize "True Way."  Is that an actual religion and not just Alec's delusion?

Alec's delusion. He and others like him believe that Maximelius Detrivan, who was posthumously revealed to be (primarily during his younger days) a serial-killing sociopath targeting magic users, was privy to some sort of greater awareness.

The most important thing to remember about Maximelius and those who follow his example is that they're closet bigots, prejudiced against anyone who uses magic (while often, except in Maximelius' case, ignoring what benefits they have received from them). Xenophobia and racism are also often coupled with this.

Also, more on the vampire incident will be coming.

Addendum: Expect some biographies as well.