by mozenwrathe on Sun Apr 29, 2012 2:28 pm
*There are some stories which are best forgotten. At least some stories one learns something about themselves in the telling. Other tales have a moral to them which awakens a portion of the spirit that until then had lain slumbering. Even more are just for entertainment to give people something fantastic to dream about. But are there moments in time which most agree should never be recalled. Those are the fragments that are the most important to lorekeepers and soothsayers - namely to know whether or not they've happened before... or shall occur again.*
Tragic Blue Sky Rain of Absyrtus'vanima
by Lexan Blackfriar, wolven sorcerer, father of at least a few wolven
Something I remember being told by some old sylvan elves once was a tale of a city that no longer stands. What mattered about the story was not that the city vanished from the eyes of mortals, but how it was removed. I know nothing about if it was some hoax created by elves just to see if they could convince humans of all stripes to go and investigate something that would lead to their deaths or not. I know if that was the purpose, had it worked. More than three rival adventuring companies had set out in the past year to find the ruins of the city, but none had returned. The irony was that despite the money those companies had put into the town I had meandered into, none of them were missed. The men had a habit of almost ruining the pleasure slaves they had rented, and causing much destruction in drunken humour. In fact, goblins were more welcomed than those of those adventuring companies. Now that was saying something.
As the elves told me the story they had poured into the ears of the men from before, did I learn why it was such a grand lure. The city was known as Absyrtus'vanima, and in the far northern reaches of what is now the Ilfiran empire, was it considered a crown jewel. Of course, if it had existed during the time of Lord Stormbringer's grand conquest, he would have definitely sought it out for its riches. But there is a good chance he had never heard of it before. You see, the city itself had been devastated around four hundred years or so before the arrival of The Ivory Tower of Unigo. Which would make it nothing less than ancient history in the eyes of almost all the known races - except for elves and vulpani, really. I know nothing of the Magi and how long they live, but they are all aloof like elves but heavier, so possibly them too.
It was to the north of Northern Shield Wall and on the eastern coasts. At least this is what they intimated, but the city was built on a plateau in a mountainous range, close to the great oceans itself. A city, not a mere town or a tiny village, mind you, that had stood for at least a vulpani's lifetime. Now if this was all true, that would have made Absyrtus'vanima even older than another city that lays along the eastern coasts, but has a history that is interwoven with Nanthalion and Unigo in its own rights: the walled city of Város Sok Dicsoséget. Now that city has stories unto itself, but such is for another time. Absyrtus'vanima was from all accounts originally a dwarven settlement in one of its levels that expanded upwards and outwards, connecting to an elven enclave. How this all came about is a mystery unto itself, but I digress. The history of the city had been explained to me as well, but that is not what I wish to talk about this time. Mayhaps another meal - paid for by yourself, of course - will have me talk more about what they told me about the lands themselves and how they were tamed and cultured by the races that chose to live there. Not truly harmonious, to be sure, but one was not as likely to die in a back alley as you are in somewhere like, say, Hurema'Inca.
What was so magnificent about the city was its ruling system. They had a council of seven, one of them being a vulpani. Every seven years was the council reselected, with representatives chosen only from those who had done something for the city past or present. Most of those within the city cared little who ruled, as long as things were not altered in ways that harmed themselves or their businesses. The city by the time of the catastrophe was many leveled, including having docks down at the sea itself to port in and out goods. Dwarves working hand in hand with captured dark elven slaves from attempted raids, goblin grunts commanded by high elven mercenaries, and other such things were quite common. The corsairs of the city were mostly those ship captains who had nowhere else to turn and given a second chance to become buccaneers in the name of Absyrtus'vanima. Those who sought to betray the city at first opportunity learned how well their flesh could feed the fishes in the harbour. In essence, there was no sign that anything could harm this city aside from a disaster of Gaea's design.
From how the tale goes, what caused the removal of the city from existence was a group of children praying on the shores to their gods of sky and life, giving thanks to them for everything Absyrtus'vanima had blessed them with. Two goddesses of the oceans heard this and were greatly offended. Well, it is unsure if they were goddesses, powerful spirits, or something else entirely. All I know for sure was they were of water and ice, of bone and of breath. Whatever they were, the two were female and aggrieved. As most males know of any sentient race, that's never a good thing. Having been omitted from the prayers and thanks of the children, would the duo invisibly go and listen in on the worship of others along the shores, completely ignoring the fact both had temples of their own that were regularly full at least thrice every ten-day. Hearing their names not much at all had turned their aggrieved natures to becoming outright vengeful. This could not stand, they believed. If they would not be loved, then they would be feared, so they vowed to themselves.
From the great depths of the ocean, summoned the two a horrible storm. Pulling as well from the skies, dire winds and heavy clouds. Though other gods protested their irrational actions, the two goddesses cast their wrath in the form of a tempestuous rainstorm fueled almost from the sea itself. A saltwater torrent from the skies would deluge the city of Absyrtus'vanima, but was it subtle at first. It would be mostly misty the first day, slowly increasing day after day. Even with prayers to Gaea herself and a few to Aden'Ver, the mists and fogs would not decrease. When the rains finally started, many started giving offerings to the goddesses of water and weather, but was it far too late. By the end of the ten-day, the rains were in full control of the heavens above the mountainous range where the city was located.
Some within the city who had the means to decided to take early vacation. As there was a Grand Portal located not far from the city on the plateau where the main body of the city was placed, many flocked there to get themselves to where the portal itself was attached to. Still others had made their way down to the shores through the caverns which led down and around, or through the passes before they became too dangerous to traverse. The exodus from the city was a small one at first, and mostly those who believed they were just dealing with a rainy season start. By the time it was clear these rains were not natural ones by far, though, were the council members themselves swamped with pleading and raging people, all of them demanding something be done to appease the gods.
It was here when the fates themselves turned against the city. The two goddesses were confronted by a pair of gods who had found the city's worship most potent and pleasurable. The deities argued most vehemently and their strife translated into the seas becoming more turbulent, the storms in the skies growing more violent, and lightning would now join the thunder at long last. Casting wrath and remorse into the lofty peaks of the mountains, landslides of minor import would be caused. This, though caused the openings of caverns and pits in the great ranges, allowing for greater flooding. As well, the gods themselves were too busy dealing with each other to see the greater ramifications of what they were doing to the very city they were feuding over. Roads that were once proofed against higher rains and winds were now rivers themselves. A plain that had not seen water in over three years was now a small lake. And deep within the mountain itself, something started to stir that had not awoken in centuries.
By the third ten-day's end, the city was half flooded itself. The streets had been washed out, and the only way to traverse anywhere was by hoping the random waves that washed through the avenues and such did not knock you off your feet. The prayers of the city dwellers had gone unanswered, but not unnoticed. There was one listening, and did he care not for the noise and nattering. For was it now Uvelcra Himself who chose to find a suitable end to this. By His Hand Alone, was a great chasm opened underneath Absyrtus'vanima to allow some of the waters to drain. Though at the same time, the conflict between the two goddesses who had started these rains and the two other gods that had sought to stop it caused a great and terrible wave to rise from the depths, crashing into the city itself. The result was much of the city was literally washed into the very caverns and dragged by the weight of the water into the depths. The chasm that Uvelcra had made opened back into the depths of the seas, causing many treasures to be lost forever to the world above the waves. The silence was golden to Uvelcra, as he laughed to himself while the four lesser deities saw what they had wrought and wept piteously.
The mourning of Absyrtus'vanima went on for two fortnights, and those few who had survived somehow were taken by the gods to be transformed into their personal servants. Memories of the city were cleansed from their minds and hearts, etched into sacred tomes that were then scattered across Belariath. The grand creation of over five hundred years of effort, gone in fifty days. It was said there was an undersea city created not more than a day's sailing from that chasm by the merfolk, but I would know nothing of that. I have never tried to find anything under the waves, for I have no desire to drown because I purposely was stupid enough to find myself underwater. Though would it explain why some of those who live their lives in the oceans have items that were clearly of elven or dwarven make.
Never would I wish to be in a storm that would have me drown standing on dry land. And that is what happened with that city. Though, all of this is just legend and hearsay. Still, such stories tend to have an element of truth to them. I am a little curious about what happened to those three adventuring companies that went to find such a ruin. After all, they were quite well armed, with some of the more potent magics in Belariath at their beck and call. What could thoroughly remove no less than three armed groups like that with no survivors if weather was not at fault? Maybe they all turned on each other? Or perhaps something else entirely, like that city wasn't completely destroyed to begin with. Whatever it is, such is a mystery that I am not going to be the one to solve. There are some risks I do not find worth taking just for the sake of knowledge.
current characters:
Prydain Mozenwrathe (Magi, smith, known to the Might Makes Right) ,
Ichilandar Shimmerstrike (dark elf, ranger, merchant) ,
Dasan (Sheykan, druid, real estate specialist)