BlackwaterDnD

Em:
Welcome to BlackwaterDnD, where good friends tell better stories. Welcome to BlackwaterDnD, where good friends tell better stories. This series, Oblivion, is an eleven part miniseries using the Powered by the Apocalypse system, Godkiller, which was created by Connie Chang, now available on Itch.io for purchase. Our story tells a tale of the end of all things, and follows one prophesized soul who challenges the shackles of fated and foretold divinity. This story is our love letter to fearless storytelling, passionate vulnerability, and incredible creators who challenge us to bring our best selves to the table. For this story, your GOD, everyone else, and the thrum of the Cradle, is myself, Em Carlson, and my GODKILLER is played by Jannes Wessels and Christian Navarro. As this game falls within a holypunk and dark fantasy genre, it may contain themes and depictions that are triggering for some listeners. Please take care of yourself and access support as you see fit.
Content warnings for this episode include:
Heartbreak / allusions of sex / romance / grief / poverty / death / shadows / body horror / getting lost / fantasy violence / fighting / anger / classism / fear of capture / complicated relationships / power dynamics and struggle / rejection / religious overtones / ostracisation / sickness and contagion / rot and decay / the dark / betrayal / falling / references to war / murder / starvation / allusions to self-harm / strong language
So sit back and relax, heretic. And welcome to Godkiller: Oblivion.
ARC 1, PART 2: WRITER
Em: [Music plays here to set the scene, general fantasy music]
So here we are. Welcome to The Cradle. The story of how this last vestige of the world came to be is fraught with fearful misinformation, conflicted insight, and willful ignorance to its march forward. At the beginning of time, there was nothing. A vast, empty nothing that swept for ages and ages and stood still with itself for a long time. A comfortable silence. A deafening vacuum.
And then, as the universe is wont to do, came light. And from that, chaos and change. And from that, divinity. The gods were created to inhabit the universe and effect change within it, spreading themselves and their domains across the far reaches until there was nothing of the silence left. And then, feeling the need for more, the gods descended from their planes, those sacred places they'd created just for themselves and their dominion through a rift in the weave of the multiverse known as The River, flowing through the liminal space of the Caesura, and there lay what would become the Material Plane.
They created a world of life, teeming with beautiful individuality. And then mortals. Beings who the gods could teach. They taught mortals how to speak and build homes and cook food and fall in love. They taught mortals what to do and what not to do, how to think and how not to think. They taught mortals how to pray, to obey, and above all, to devote. And finally, after the mortals had proven their faith, the gods taught them magic. Magic sprung through the world and changed over time through the ages of our multiverse. After times of both peace and strife, war and calm, others were able to claim magic as their own through different means. Nature, study, deals and bargains, and even some born with magic in their blood. The gods knew this and they allowed it all.

Once upon a time, in a world now that feels so very far away, the gods loved the mortal world. They loved it for what it gave them and the strength that they wrought from the worship. And then, as the cycle always does, eon after eon as we crest the sign of time, The River dried up and the gods were stranded here, cut off from the Caesura, their power and their freedom, cut off from their planes and their fonts of divine essence and their magic began to run out.
The name of the first god who died is now lost to the ravages of time, but we do know one thing. The other gods witnessed, and they learned. They learned that killing brought power and magic and pleasure. Soon another god was slain, then another, then another. The corpses of the fallen deities of the Lyrician Pantheon now litter what is left of a barren wasteland, serving as monuments to the viciousness of divinity and the utter cruelty of desperation.
At the end of all things, seeking to endure and reclaim the nothingness of the void is one God, one known as Archeveleon, the first, the last, and the undercurrent of everything in between. It is the empty and the vast. It is hollow and echoing. It is endless and endless and endless. As the Gods began to die of withering or of outright murder, the world in the middle, The Cradle, began to die too. And we find that here, in a wound that cannot heal, is where our story takes place. The massive corpses of slain deities populate ruined tracks of land known as the Fallaway, the gaps between their bones bristling with beasts and monsters, scavengers and pillagers, mortals, and smaller gods. This is a realm both beautiful and desolate. Dark mysteries lurk in the shadows of every ruined temple, every desecrated shrine, every gilded promise gone to seed.
The River, the original home of the gods, is also dried up and dead. Legends say it used to glisten across the night sky in a lustrous plume of stars, and now it hangs above our heads like an omen. A warning, a constant reminder of everything we've lost. One day, the river shall shed its final speck of dust, and it shall die for good. And the time of mortals and gods shall come to an end. And it is hurtling towards that moment where our story begins.
The last habitable part of The Cradle is known as The Valley, settled between two steep mountain ranges protecting this crescent from the slowly encroaching bleakness that surrounds. Civilization has gathered around the powerful, the divine, and whatever resources the land has left to offer. Each small town or village is overseen by one of the remaining 20 gods, who hold a tenuous peace, as do the citizens of The Valley under their purview. It has been 65 years since the last god was slain. Buloch, God of Lies, cursed the world as he lay dying: “Until this place is a wisp of dust, thou shalt not tell truth from lies.” The Valley descended swiftly into mass war and conflict with thousands of mortals slain in the name of divinity. The war raged for 15 years before seven major Gods stepped forward to take the lead and brought together an albeit fragile peace. Land was destroyed and part of the remaining substance of the world was corrupted and some say it is slowly bleeding away altogether.
The corrupted land outside the mountain ranges is known as the Fallaway. It is inhospitable, barren, irradiated, corrupted, and littered with the decay of dead gods. Nothing will grow and anything that attempts to survive out there for too long becomes irreparably changed and corrupt, feral and violent, or just withers and dies outright. Some say there are terrifying monsters that stalk and hunt and leagues of ghosts of those who could not make it out.
In stark contrast, in the center of the Valley, between the last fertile land and one of the last pure water sources, lies the City of Glass, a shining beacon of resilience of the people who seek to live and thrive in what is left of the mortal world. Arranged in four concentric circles of increasing wealth and influence, the city seems to almost be a shelter to the rest of the struggle that exists outside its walls. The centre beacon, an incredibly tall glass-like tower known as The Chime, stands proud, housing the high priests, priestesses, and priestex of the seven major Gods, as well as the Speaker of the People. These eight essentially rule the valley, and oversee all its domains, trade, commerce, and worship, and strive to sustain a world so perilously balanced against oblivion. They preach devotion to their gods, as well as twelve other gods who each hold a city around the cord, the main road running around the length of the valley, each god requiring a tithe, each god requiring something to ensure their watchful eyes over the people who love them so much.
One god has no city left of its own. No outright worship or devotion, but remains still: Archeveleon. Always present, waiting, reaching for the end when it can be alone once more. But more on that later.
We zoom in through the City of Glass, weaving our way out from the Chime through the first, second, third, and finally entering the fourth district. This weaving and maze-like district houses those with the most modest incomes within Glass - a nestled neighborhood of apartments, small shops, and merchants, people trying to survive with what they have and make the most of it. The dwellings are small, but this is a place where you know and mostly trust your neighbors. We close in on one small apartment, at the top of a five-floor tenement. What is left of the sun, the irradiated and dead body of Acletolem, shines modestly above, giving what light he has left, being buffeted by his sibling, Falir, God of the dawn. We glance inside and lying in bed and waking slowly. Christian, who do we see?
Christian: [music shifts, woodwind instruments & strings; reminiscent of the desert]:
Well, we meet Plenus. A man, small in stature and gaunt, with a perpetually hungry look. Even as his eyes wince at the sun, at the dawn, there's a quiet storm raging inside of them. Always raging. And the guilt.
As he moves aside the thin cloth he uses as a cover, as a quilt of sorts, and his feet swing off the side of the bed and hit the floor. Everything hurts. He's keenly aware of his breath. The hot wind on his skin. Long, wavy, dark hair hangs, just brushing against his shoulders. Usually pull back taught, but not this morning, not yet. His hands ache. He stretches them, cracks them. [cracking sounds, sigh] And he reaches for a ring beside him. As he grabs that ring, he's overcome with the same emotion every time he touches this ring, which is guilt. Immense guilt. He holds it close to his chest.
Em:
Can you describe your apartment? What's in it and what's it like?
Christian:
Oh, I think it's threadbare. I think there's a bed. There's a cloth that passes for a cover, but it's thin and scratchy and uncomfortable for most people, I would imagine. There's a small table and a small chair, backless. There are no curtains. The sun should be felt, as should the moon. There's bread. Stale bread. It's tasteless, but provides sustenance. There's a small saucer where that ring rests when it's not hanging around his thin, veiny neck.
There's a knife, on the table. Like a black hole, sucking everything in towards it, enveloping feeling and sound and the world. Something I think he tries to ignore this early in the morning, but it's ever present.
Em:
Mmm. And as you shift slowly, you shift more carefully than normal. As we see someone curled, still sleeping on the other half of your bed. She is asleep, nestled in and snoring softly. She has long curly black hair that falls down to what you would assume would be her mid back, but it is wild and unruly spread across the pillow. Her horns are short, almost lost between the curls. Her sharp features settle around golden eyes that we would see if she was awake. They're soft and kind. A small smile pulls at her face even in her sleep. Black priestess robes are draped over a chair adorned with gold embroidery. Finery. The heady smell of floral and spice sits in her hair. A prayer book to her goddess, Nephthyseket, is left on her side, on her bedside table, with a pencil on top. This is Katani.
Christian:
I thought it was a bad dream. A nightmare. But nightmares don't feel that good.
And as I see her hair sprawl out onto the pillow and over the bed, I'm struck by… what looks like images dancing with her wild roots. If I squint just enough with the sunbeams floating through the window, it looks like children dancing her hair. That's what we were doing last night dancing. And with the realization that it wasn't a dream or a nightmare, it was real. She was here, is here. That guilt stabs at him.
Christian (as Plenus):
[signs] “I should go. I should go.”
Em:
She sleeps still, not waking, heavy in her slumber. And as you look at her, coming to the realization of what's happened, your mind is drawn to the moment you first laid eyes on her. How did you meet her?
Christian:
I was... working. The only thing I really do. Delivering a missive from one of the high priests here in the City of Glass. I came upon her as one of the many in a traveling caravan. And it was her eyes, her golden eyes, catching the sun. We were leaving Bright Rise, a part of a traveling caravan, hundreds of people.
Typically I keep my head down. Focus on the guilt. On the mission. On the missive I had to deliver. But her eyes stopped me in my tracks for just a moment, diverted my attention from the mission, from the missive, from the guilt.
She smiled more with her eyes than her mouth. There was an uncanny resemblance to somebody I… to someone who's no longer here. That's where we met.
Em:
She walked up alongside you, one of ten young priestesses of Nepthysaket. You heard her first before you saw her. Humming a hymn, you assume, of her scripture. She came up next to you, looked down at your hands, almost laughed to herself and said,
Em (as Katani):
“Oh goodness, I get ink stains too. Do you write much?”
Christian (as Plenus):
“Excuse me? Are you talking to me?”
Em (as Katani):
“Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt. I noticed the ink stains on your hands. I-”
Em:
And she holds her hands up. And they are also covered in ink.
Christian (as Plenus):
“Yes. I am a scribe. Are you a priestess?”
Em (as Katani):
“Well, I feel like I am being treated more like a scribe these days. We write and write and write, transcribing books and... the old texts, writing new texts. You'd think they would have found a more automated way to do that, but... that is not the case. It builds character, apparently. Shows your devotion.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“I find writing brings clarity - your inner thoughts feelings poured through a singular device of a quill onto a paper that contains mysteries. Secrets revealed to you as the writer.”
Em (as Katani):
“I’ve never thought about it that way.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“Probably for the best. Some of us think too much. I’m Plenus.”
Em (as Katani):
“I am Katani. It is wonderful to meet you, Plenus.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“Is it?”
Em (as Katani):
“Well, it is a beautiful day at the very least and you look lonely, so... I talk to my sisters much, much too much. Figured it was time for some new company.”
Christian (as Plenus):
I think that when she says you look lonely… she may have, she might be the first person to call this to his attention and there's something piercing about that because he's so unconcerned with how he looks and how the outside world perceives him and his feelings. He's so deeply entrenched in what he's feeling that he doesn't look… he doesn't pay any attention I think to what it's perceived to be by the outside world and hearing that, that he looks lonely is…painful a little bit. But also because as he's walking alongside her and hearing her speak and she calls this to his attention, he realizes that there's an uncanny resemblance not only in her look but in her feel, in her vibration, her energy. And that's sad too. But it's a different kind of sadness, a sadness rooted in… Gratefulness. Gratitude.
Christian (as Plenus):
“I am alone, but I am not lonely.”
Em:
She smiles softly. Being a priestess of Nepthysaket comes with time to study people needing to know what to say, needing to be a present witness for people in the times they need it most. I think she sees these emotions cross your face. You see her almost begin to ask a question and stops herself. And she looks at you once more with a small nod.
Em (as Katani):
“Then perhaps, if you are not lonely, then we can be not so alone walking together. Shall we?”
Christian:
I think he diverts his eyes and looks down as he wants to do, but as he does he nods.
Em (as Katani):
“Well alright, Plenus the scribe. On we walk.”
Em:
And she starts humming again. The same hymn. It has many verses and stanzas, you're sure. As you continue on with this caravan. You're pulled from this reverie, seeing her there, the outline of her face, the curve of her that you can see under the thin blanket. She looks so at peace here. But this quiet moment will be very short-lived.
Now you know that you're leaving today. You're headed out on another one of the caravans that treks around the valley, as you often do. They deliver food, supplies, services, and trade. These large caravans depart three times yearly, and this is the last one for the year, late fall. Now you said you're a scribe. What kind of missives? Or messages or works do you write?
Christian:
Oh, all kinds. The high priests in one city communicating with the high priest in another, politicians, soldiers, lovers, friends, family, saying goodbye, saying hello, exchanging information regarding cattle and crop, troop movements, whispers of Gods, no deaths in quite a while. The hopes and dreams of every person here in The Cradle, everyone with coin to spare for a scribe such as myself.
Em:
Hmm. But yet there's more than that. And that's something you hide. And while we don't need to know what that is just yet, as you collect yourself and move to leave the apartment, what's going through your mind as you set out on a journey again that is so much more than just being a scribe?
Christian:
As I dress myself, I grab my robes - colored like adobe and sunsets and dirt. First I stand at the foot of this bed naked and… and I look at her. There's a truth that's inescapable, that haunts me, and it's the fact that I hope, I whisper in my mind that this will be the last time I see her. It has to be the last time I see her. And yet I know it won’t be. And, because of that I feel as if… some part of me, some small part of me is doomed. Forever doomed.
Those robes taught across my skin and feel the itch and scratch of materials that aren't perhaps made to be worn, but necessity requires that I wear them and I stop at the doorway.
I look back, and I whisper:
Christian (as Plenus):
“Thank you.”
Em:
Do you love her?
Christian:
I don't think so, no. It's hard to serve two masters and… My heart is always belonged to another. But this might be the closest I ever get to loving another.
Em:
Someone such as yourself, who while is so guarded about his feelings, knows what love feels like, and it feels dangerous. Dangerous to go there again, especially when you know you have a job to do.
Christian:
There's only the mission.
Em:
So as you leave your apartment, closing the door behind you, not speaking to her, not saying anything… You head across the rings, having to cut through the Chime District to get to the city gate heading towards The Foales, which will be the first stop on this journey around the cord. As you walk through, you see increasingly lavish architecture - the bustling marketplaces, the livelihood of the people here who despite everything seem to be enjoying themselves.
Christian:
Yes, no, as I travel through the rings and I see… what he considers, what I consider to be the most incredible characteristic of the human element, which is the persistence in the face of ruin, death, destruction, pain, the persistence to always find the light, to find the laughter, to find the connection to another human. There's something about this that lifts his spirit and quickens his gait, but at the same time there's a… Oh, a distaste in his mouth for all of it. There... ..so… careless, carefree, and they'll never know the sacrifices that we have to make. That we must make for them, for everyone.
Em:
There are banners, and you see ahead a group of people in the centre square, situated around the Chime itself. There is a slight breeze moving through the city, which causes a light, soft harmony to sit just audibly on the wind. You know this is from the tower itself, playing the Song of the Valley that carries along the breath, that flows through every day, an ode to a long-dead god. Is there anything or anyone you're looking for as you make your way across the square or any supplies you need to get or pick up before you leave?
Christian:
I think I have enough funds, enough currency for a piece of bread to last me the journey. Some...water.
Em:
And you would know that much of the food would be supplied by the caravan as well. There would be lots of, and plentiful amount of food and drink for everyone along the journey.
Christian:
Right. Well, I’m looking for whoever is contracting me for this leg of the journey. The missive that I have to transport from here to our final destination.
Em:
Okay, so your eyes search around and as you're walking through the crowd, you hear:
Em (as Speaker Halston Beltran):
“Plenus! Plenus.”
Christian:
Yeah, I think that normally he's quite aware and present, hyper aware, hyper present and scanning, even with his eyes averted and looking down as they often appear to be doing, he's constantly aware. But today, his mind is drifting. And so the mention of his name is like a, like a clap in a theater, you know. It's jarring and sharp. It takes him by surprise, which I think might be surprising to whoever is familiar enough with him to know his name.
Christian (as Plenus):
“Yes?”
Em:
As you turn around, you see the man who called you. You recognize him as Halston Beltran. He is an older, dark-skinned human man with short, curly, dark brown hair. And you know him as the Speaker of the People. He is one of the eight on the Center Council who run the Valley.
Christian (as Plenus):
“Speaker.”
Em (as Beltran):
“It is nice to see you. Are you on your way to the caravan?”

Christian (as Plenus):
“I was looking for you actually. What is it that you need transported today? Speaker.”
Em (as Beltran):
“Ah, yes, that is something I like about you, Plenus. Right to business, okay.”

Em:
And he reaches into his bag and pulls out a scroll. It is sealed with wax and a ribbon of his seal of here in the City of Glass. And he places it, he hands it towards you.

Em (as Beltran):
“To High Priest Arno, in Hood, if you will.”
Christian:
I take the scroll and hold it and feel the weight of it because each scroll, each parchment has its own weight and its own smell, its own ink, its own feel, and I almost imperceptibly I also smell the ink and take in the weight of this scroll in my hand. And without looking at him I ask:
Christian (as Plenus):
“What are the contents of this scroll speaker?”
Em (as Beltran):
“Well, mostly just city politics and updates, but... We are running low on tonic and… medicines and there is nothing better than those from Hood. I am hoping that High Priest Arno will rush our shipment before the winter.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“How long before you run out?”
Em (as Beltran):
“A month.”

Christian (as Plenus):
“I will move with haste, Speaker.”
Em (as Beltran):
“It is much appreciated. I know that I can trust you to get the job done.”
Christian:
As he says that there's a twitch in his hands and his fingers that he knows he can trust me. And he thinks,
Christian (as Plenus):
If he only knew what I am. Truly. “Yes, Speaker, I will, I will do my best.”
Em (as Beltran):
“Well, I am late. The High Priestess should be arriving any moment, and I am also expected to speak, so I hope it is good. I hope everyone in the crowd enjoys it. It is good to see you, Plenus. Take good care.”
Em:
And he rushes off, actually, towards and through this crowd of people that are gathering there…
Christian:
Is it, pardon me, is it normal for the High Priestess to visit?
Em:
The main High Priests, Priestesses, and Priestex of the major seven each hold a seat in the Council within the Chime itself, as are their quarters. And the main temples to these major seven Gods sit directly around the Chime. So the High Priestess is here often. And you're not sure which high priestess he's referring to. There are many. But you assume with the gravitas with which he hustled away that it is someone important.
Christian:
It's different, it's different than what I'm used to seeing from him, right? There's a different sort of weightiness to his, his haste and his desire to be where he needs to be.
Em:
Yes, Speaker Beltran is a man of the people. In all essence, he is meant to provide counsel on behalf of the major citizens within the valley who have maybe not the closest connections to the divine. And while he himself must be devout, as everyone is, his job is to make sure that every person feels represented on a council of people that they could never be anything like. This happened after the war. It felt important for someone to speak on behalf of the citizens of the Valley.
Christian:
Folly. Folly. But I know him and I know this seemed different and seemed important and I'm torn between reporting to the caravan or following behind him. First, I'd like to ask, do I believe him when he said… you know, this missive, this scroll contains A, B, and C. Did it seem as if there was something else in there that he wasn't willing to tell me?
Em:
Would you like to use one of your mortal moves, which is Feel someone or something out?
Christian:
I would, yes.
Em:
Okay, so when you try to feel out a person, place, or thing, say what you want clarity about, which you just did, and answer one question of the following below. The GM will give you clarity you seek as they answer the other. So would you like to answer what feels welcoming on the surface or what feels dark and unnerving as I peer deeper?
Christian:
I would like to answer what feels welcoming on the surface, which is there's a truthfulness to his trust in me. We have a rapport, we have a relationship, and I do believe that he trusts me. I've travelled for him in the past and delivered to and brought back word for him, and I know that… though it's a bit, I think I'd say one-sided, and I use the word loosely friendship, this relationship. It's certainly real for him. There's a pleasantness with which he handles me, mostly because of my dutiful behaviour and my success in doing what I've contracted to do.
Em:
Okay, well I will answer the other what feels dark or unnerving when I peer deeper. When you asked him, how long, how much time do we have until you run out? You could see the fear behind his eyes. Knowing that the supply of medicine that they have is becoming more and more necessary, that there are more people getting sick. And I would say that you would know from hearing through town, especially been through being through the fourth district, that there are more and more cases of Wasting Sickness: the sickness and the illness that happens when you spend too much time near the Fallaway. It is slow and painful, uncurable.
Most of the time, when people contract Wasting Sickness, they are immediately sent away to Astuce, a city far to the north, under the purview of Aipay, the god of pestilence, decay and disease, because it is highly contagious. And while medicine can treat it if caught very, very early, more often than not, it is not caught, and can spread like wildfire.
So I think this is what you see that unnerves you as you peer deeper. He is worried.
Christian:
And as those thoughts run across my mind I wonder is this Wasting Sickness a result of that sort of malady encroaching upon our city, or the City of Glass, or because our inhabitants are seeking out whatever is beyond and coming back?
Em:
You're unsure. It could be a mix of both. You know that the cities near the fringes of the Valley, closest to the mountains, that separate the valley from Eastfall and Westfall. Many people come to Glass to seek the best treatment, to try to save their families. Which means that the medicine supplies from those cities are not as used, but the ones in Glass are.
Christian:
I will follow the speaker, and try and catch a bit of his speech and or the oration that that'll be given by whoever this high priestess is.
Em:
Ok. So you follow him through the crowd, you're probably about 20 paces behind him. The crowd is getting quite dense as you near the front. And as you find a good vantage spot, an applause erupts through the crowd as you see a tall lithe woman with grey skin and long curling horns wearing black priestess robes lined with opulent gold embroidery - similar to Katani's, but so much more. Her long white hair is braided intricately into multiple plates, which sit nestled amongst her horns. Her gold eyes shine even from here. The High Priestess of Nepthysaket, Verity Fall, stands at a podium on one of the raised platforms surrounding the chime, flanked by the other reigning speakers of the major seven, and Halston quickly runs up the stairs to join them.
Speaker Beltran, as he walks up the stairs, has his eyes trained on Priestess Fall and begins nodding along as she speaks and begins to address the people.
Em (as Verity Fall):
“It is my privilege to stand before you today as we celebrate 50 years of peace across the Valley. Through our grace, our faith, and devotion to both the Gods around us and each other, we have seen everyone through the darkest times and sit poised towards the radiance of the future, a future where we may thrive together in harmony and peace. Myself and my sisters extend our thanks to the speakers of this council for their wisdom that has guided us forward, most especially to Speaker Beltran for his steadfast and unwavering support of the people of the cradle. We are truly lucky to have him as the voice of our populace and for the peoples beyond Glass, towards the edges of the Valley.
Em:
She leads a round of applause for Speaker Beltran as he humbly accepts it. A few other of the speakers begin to go forward and they start sharing many of the same platitudes. It is the same speech.
Christian:
Does she believe what she's saying?
Em:
Ah, would you like to use the same move? Feel Someone or Something Out.
Christian:
Yes, yes, I suppose so, yes.
Em:
Okay, so when you try to feel someone, a person, place, or thing out, say what you want clarity about and answer one. The GM will give you the clarity you seek as they answer the other. So would you like to answer what feels welcoming on the surface or what feels dark and unnerving as I peer deeper?
Christian:
I think what I know is that her words are sweet and saccharine and welcoming, but there's something unnerving about them because I am I'm weighing her words against the truth that I know from my brief interaction with Beltran which is… with the Speaker which is that the medicine is running out and it feels it feels unnerving and dishonest what she's saying.
So what feels welcoming on the surface is her demeanor and her attitude and her words. And I want to peer behind that, beyond that, and see what more there is.
Em:
Okay. You are very astute and observant. You have to be to keep yourself safe in a place where you can never show who you are. Your eyes follow Speaker Beltran and they trace across the other speakers, high priestesses and priests and priestex of the major seven. You see that Priestess Verity Fall absolutely believes what she is saying. Almost to a fault. It is as if she must believe what she is saying. You see, Speaker Beltran does not. He is trying to show face and to show his own sort of stoicness and stalwartness on behalf of the people. But he does not believe what she is saying. And you see another strike of that fear and worry on his face. And as you look through the other speakers… You see worry across the face of the high priestess of Halinaea, though you don't know who she is. But everyone else seems quite placid.
Christian:
I turn my attention to the crowd and do my best to discern whether or not they're buying this, if they're relatively peaceful and enjoying this show or if there's an undercurrent of fear.
Em:
I would say that we'll keep it on the same move, but the crowd is eating it up. They want to be told that everything's going to be okay. And the priestesses of Nepthyseket have been steadfast for the Valley for since time immemorial, since longer than people can remember. Their traditions and their orders have stayed the same. So there is trust in what they do. And if the high priestess is saying it, it must be so.
Christian:
I think this disgusts me. As much as I wish it didn't, it disgusts me and I turn away from this mummer's farce and I whisper to myself, “Lies. All liars.” And I leave this play on a stage behind me and find the caravan.
Em:
Okay. You leave the Chime District and as you enter into the third district, moving through the first and second outward through the rings, you can literally see the start of the caravan at the edge of the fourth district gate towards The Foales. You know that the caravan starts about 10 a.m. and it's probably about 8.30 or 9 o'clock at this point and you'll be able to leave with them anytime before about 2. It's a staggered start. There are probably going to be about 200 people heading towards The Foales.
[music shifts into ominous tones] And as you're walking, this taste of ash in your mouth from what you've seen in the square, this weight that you carry all the time… I think that disguises it a bit and you don't notice it until you feel it in your stomach.
A weightless feeling. A feeling of floating, which is quickly replaced with nausea. A gutting, hollow feeling, as if you almost feel your stomach drop out through your feet. It is as if you have been pushed off a cliff into freefall, but your feet are still planted. It's a moderately strong level of feeling. And you know that you are close to another like you. What would you like to do?
Christian:
There's an alarming feeling that passes over my entire body, almost as if I catch myself or I reach out to catch myself before I fall, but there's nothing there and I don't quite fall. It feels like if you haven't smoked a cigarette in ages, that first hit of nicotine that makes your head feel like you're floating in a fish bowl or something like that. I try and locate that pain, but I am aware of what it is. So I scan around me. And as I do so, my hand slips inside my robes, my taut robes, and I grab the hilt of that sword, of that knife part of me, and I scan the crowd with uncharacteristic panic in my eyes as I feel like I'm free falling. It's a disturbing feeling, one I want to rid myself of and I'm looking and looking and searching.
Em:
Okay, so the part of the third district that you're in right now as you reach to grab your knife which is kept in a sheath, well tucked under your robes at your side. It is a narrow maze of houses that are slightly less modest than the ones in the fourth district. And this feeling in your chest, you know it gets stronger the closer you get to another like you. You have met a handful before but never the one you're looking for. What would you like to do?
There's not really anyone around right here, but the feeling is there.
Christian:
Is it... I'd like to move about in different directions until it pulls me stronger, until it feels as if I'm truly falling. And then when I feel that, I'm going to move in that direction with my pained, achy hands grasping that hilt tighter and tighter as I approach.
Em:
Okay. You move around, turning in each direction, taking a couple steps one way, then another, and finally it is if you're falling and then your feet kind of come underneath you as you feel yourself being pulled in a direction, as if there is a hook under your sternum yanking you that way, leads you to a modest row house on the edge of the third and second district.
You see brick and stone trimmed with wood. There is a front window, but it is drawn, but you can see light from inside.
Christian:
I look behind me and to the sides and make sure no one has followed me or is watching me.

Em:
You are alone.
Christian:
Is there a door?
Em:
There is a front door, yes. As you can see now, you haven't gone all the way around the building, but you can definitely see a front door.
Christian:
Is it locked? Does it look locked? Is it closed? Certainly.

Em:
It is closed, and as you go to try it, it is locked. The wood feels off. It feels old, much older than the other houses in this district, but you're not quite sure why. You know they were all generally built at the same time.
Christian:
I think he hesitates, he feels for the lock, realizes it is closed, and he places his palm against the door and feels,,, that sensation of falling hasn't stopped, it's grown stronger… and I think I run my hand against the door, feel its essence.
Em:
Feels like death.
Christian:
[shudders] There’s a shudder. There's a coldness even in this morning sun. And I think… I think in spite of himself, every fiber in his being wanting to run in the opposite direction [knocks]
Em:
You knock. A couple times. Each one louder than the first, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. Nobody comes to the door.
Christian:
I think there's a manic energy starting to build andI knock again louder this time. [knocks]
Em:
Nothing.
Christian:
Are the curtains on the outside of the window or the inside?
Em:
The curtains are on the inside. This is the corner house, so you could take a look around to see if there are other windows, potentially, that might be open or unlocked or something like that.
Christian:
I think I'll do that. I think, and he moves with this sort of manic energy, I think, as he moves around this home, looking for another entrance or an open window or anything that can provide a connection, a way in.

Em:
Okay. You move around the house and the ones that are street facing are closed and also drawn and you move towards there is a small gap between each of the houses and you manage to almost squish yourself between them. You get down to about the middle. There's probably three feet of a gap widthwise. And you see a half-open window and you don't even make it halfway down the alley before the smell hits you. [Christian sharply inhales, saying a soft “no”] Decay and rot, a sickly, sweet, putrid smell. That feeling you had when you touched the door, it smells like death, and not only does it smell like death, the feeling is so much more intense here. It is as if this whole house is waiting for something to happen, begging for it to come so that this place can be purged of the stale stagnant breath it is holding.
Christian:
No, no, no, no, no. Is the window big enough to crawl through or... Yes, yes, I open the window and unsheathe that knife in anticipation of whatever might be on the other side of this and crawl through the window.
Em:
Okay, you push the window up and it moves thankfully for you and you are smaller and have gotten quite thin over the last while so it is honestly the bulk of your robes that often get… might have gotten you caught in the window but you are able to squeeze through. You land in a flump on the floor. As you sit up and take a look around, the house is a disaster. Furniture is knocked over and broken. There are remnants of a meal that lie long rotten on the floor. There does not seem to be anyone in this lower level of the house from what you can see.
Christian:
At a quick glance how rotten does that food look, how long does it seem to have been sitting here?
Em:
I’d say, it's probably about a month, with how much of it is eaten or what little of it is left.
Christian:
I think as I, there's only one way to go which is up and I know what is up there. I know death awaits me up there. And I begin to pray as I climb the stairs.
Em:
Would you like to use your move, Pray for Guidance?
Christian:
I certainly would, yes.
Em:
Okay, this is one of my favorite mortal moves. When you pray for guidance, name the aid you seek and answer one. The GM will describe the aid that actually comes as they answer the other. What kind of God answers your prayers? Or what unclear omens or visions besiege me?
Christian:
I think the unclear omens or visions that besiege me are these images of rot and decay and the smell of death, a smell that is unique and sour and sweet and… full of… the abyss for nothing.

Em:
So what kind of God answers your prayers… And it is not necessarily the voice of a god that you pull knowledge from, but the domain of a God. Your mind is pulled back to the moment in the square where Speaker Beltran spoke of Wasting Sickness. You smell wasting sickness here in this house, falling under the domain of Aipay, Body of Rot. Would you like to do?
Christian:
I think he takes his robes and goes to mask his nose and mouth to hide the smell, but realizes that it's pervasive, it's useless trying to hide from. And… and I'll seek out the route I want to find. My fellow traveller, my fellow priest.
Em:
As you begin to start the stairs, you hear a [rasping breath, followed by a wet cough] It is wet and almost whooping in quality, a death rattle of lungs that are barely functioning enough to draw breath. And as you get to the top of the stairs, this pull in your chest, this aching feeling is unbearable. It almost knocks you off your feet. You feel like you're gonna be sick, whether it's from the smell of this house or… this feeling which has almost never been this powerful before. And there are two doors at the top of the stairs.
Christian:
I retch. I think I do throw up at the of the stairs there and as I do and I wipe the mess from my mouth I listen to hear if I was heard.
Em:
You hear another one of those coughs [wet cough] coming from the door on the right side, which is partially ajar, just minorly. The door on the left is closed.
Christian:
I think that the sensation of falling brings me to my knees. It's powerful, it's more powerful than I've ever felt. And I crawl to that door and push it open.
Em:
The right side door?
Christian:
Yes, where the cough is coming from.
Em:
Okay. As you enter into the room, there is a figure lying in a bed. It is unclear their age or their gender. They are gaunt and sallow with patchy hair on their head, much of which has fallen out on the pillow they lay on. There are flies everywhere. And they seem to be swarming around the lumps you assume to be this person's feet under the blankets. The blankets are stained and they smell awful. This is the concentration of what was downstairs.
They wheeze again and the sound bounces off the room and the second you see them, that hollow feeling is screaming inside you. And the word echoes around inside your head, Eutoches. Eutoches. Eutoches. It has been years since you've found another one. What's going through your mind right now?
Christian:
Pain, just pain, as I crawl towards the sheets, towards this clump, I assume, is his feet, and I reach out and touch and feel for a hand, a gaunt hand, a sickly hand to hold, and I say aloud,
Christian (as Plenus):
“Eutoches.”
Em:
As you grasp this person's hand, you hear a quiet, rasping voice come out.
Em (as They with No Name):
Is it my end? Did I make it? Did I do enough?
Christian:
I am a truth teller and yet I am burdened with the weight of relief that I could offer this individual and I say,
Christian (as Plenus):
“Yes. Yes, you have done enough. You have done more than enough. Rest.”
Em (as They with No Name):
“Have you found him?
Christian (as Plenus):
Again, I lie and I say, “Yes, you found him. You found him.”
Em (as They with No Name):
“We have found the one we seek.
Christian (as Plenus):
“Yes.”
Em (as They with No Name):
“I would know the name of the one who has found salvation. Who are you?”
Em:
And you look at this person's eyes, their faces moving, but it is unclear that their eyes are not focusing on you and you would put it together that they have probably gone blind by this point. They cannot see.
Christian:
I let one hand… grasping their gaunt hand, their tired hand, the other, my other hand, reaching for their face, soft, gentle as I can be, and I say,
Christian (as Plenus):
“I am Plenus. What is your name? My family?”
Em (as They with No Name):
“I am too far gone, I do not remember my name. But I know what I am.”
And the other hand that was underneath the covers comes up and pulls down a blanket as you see nestled on their chest, a familiar looking blade, not as ornate as yours but you would know another one when you see one. The goal of your order was to find the person to give this knife to… with every one of you having one, just in case you found them.
You see they are shirtless, exposing top surgery scars. Their skin is splotched and sunken, bruised and yellowed. And your eyes are immediately drawn to the left scar, which instead of the shiny red that you would expect from a scar such as these, you see an inky black chasm of a scar, the same as yours. And yours begins to ache. And it has been like… It is like you have been punched in the solar plexus and you ache.
Christian (as Plenus, with an immediate angry tone):
“What is this? What is this? What are you doing?”
Em (as They with No Name):
“I couldn't find him. Before, I thought about leaving. I tried to bury the knife, I tried to give it to another, but it kept coming back. It wasn't my time to give and I was so selfish.”
Christian (as Plenus):
Ugh!
Em:
They pull the cover back up, covering the scar once more.
Christian:
This has never happened before, has it? This pain has never happened to me in this scar. Do I know what this means?
Em:
You know that every utocious has one. An inky scar underneath their left pectoral. You don't particularly know what that omen, what that pain, that ache means, other than you are exceedingly close to someone who is so like you. And you maybe have never been this close, this vulnerable around another like you before. As they hear you cry in pain, there are tears that roll out of their unfocused eyes.
Christian (as Plenus):
“This never felt like this before, what have you done? Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt?!”
Em:
You see the tears begin to roll more strongly now, and they almost begin to tremble under the intensity of your voice.
Em (as They with No Name):
“I did what I was supposed to do. I sought the Twin Soul my whole life and never questioned it. So sure of our job, right up until the end I wore my title with pride and served it well. I saw them spit on us -”
Christian (as Plenus):
Enough!
Christian:
And I grab... I grab their face. And I know they can't see me, but this hurts so much, the pain is too much. And I squeeze... I squeeze their head, and I hold it, and I say,
Christian (as Plenus):
“Why does it hurt? Enough, Voidwalker! Tell me why it hurts!”
Em:
The more aggressive your voice gets, it is if that feeling comes through them back to you and they yell towards you,
Em (as They With No Name - a stronger voice):
“How do you do it? How do you grapple with the burden we carry?”

Em:
Not this gravelly, raspy voice, but a strong, pointed question. Perhaps what they sounded like without the sickness.
Christian:
And I think as their voice gathers in strength and matches my own, I think it blows me back and I sort of fall back against the wooden floor. And I think deeply, truly about this question, how do I do it? And the only answer that springs to the front of my mind is..
Christian (as Plenus):
“I lie. I lie… to myself to others. I lie.”
Em (as They with No Name):
“Then perhaps you will need to start telling more of the truth.”
Em:
You hear their breathing get very labored. And you know that wasting sickness is unbelievably contagious. You have gotten very close to this person. And if you stay in this room any longer, the corruption could jump to you. What would you like to do?
Christian:
I stand. Even with the weight of gravity pulling me down, I stand. I unsheath my own sword. My own knife. Place my hand on his mouth, and this black hole that's sucking me towards this person. I need it to end, I need it to stop, and I know they are in pain, and I kiss their forehead.
Christian (as Plenus):
“To the Void.”
Christian:
And I slice their throat. And then I stumble out. I stumble out and hopefully feel relief as the life leaves their body and returns to mine.
Em:
Do you stop in the other room at the top of the stairs before you go?
Christian:
I feel as I exit that room? Is there a sense of calling to that room? Is there something drawing me to that room?
Em:
You feel as if a foot has been taken off of your chest. You can breathe again.
Christian:
I stand at the door for a long time. I compose myself. Straighten up my robes so that they lie taut against my body again and.. I look at the blade. The blood on the blade. And I sheath it again. Ilet my attention fall to that door. And I push at ajar slowly.
Em:
It moves easily. Every time you have met another like you that has always been out on the road, never in Glass, and never in a dwelling.

So you see maybe the first prayer room, the first shrine you have ever seen to Archeveleon. There's a prayer book lying open on a small pedestal, poured candle wax as if candles were just left to peter out. You see manic scribbles on the wall in languages you recognize and don't as well.
Christian:
I think I recognize it immediately as a prayer room to Archeveleon, right?
Em:
You do.
Christian:
I think when I see this… I think he's overcome. He's overwhelmed. And the image of the man he just killed, the man he just sent to Archeveleon, is replaced with the image of my love. The first of our kind that I met. The face with purpose, staring back at me with purpose. And I fall to my knees in front of this pedestal. And I recite our prayer.
Em:
The prophecy comes pouring out of your mouth. The main doctrine that every Eutoches knows.
Christian (as Plenus):
“There will come a twin-souled priest who will begin the end of days. They will eschew all things. Take the knife and walk alone to kill the nothing and welcome the empty oblivion.”
Em:
Would you like to use the move, Pray for Guidance?
Christian:
Yes, yes I would.
Em:
So when you pray for guidance, name the aid you seek and answer one. The GM will describe the aid that actually comes as the answer to the other. What kind of God answers your prayers?
Christian (as Plenus):
“Archeveleon. Archeveleon. Why? So close to home. Why? Answer me. Answer me, Archeveleon.”
Em:
You beseech your God, standing at maybe the only shrine you have ever seen to it. And that feeling of falling almost takes you and as you blink your eyes, you see yourself actually falling, hurtling towards the ground. You are 300, maybe 400 feet in the air. It is night and you are over a forest. And you fall down, down. And the second you are in this vision, you are out of it again sitting before your shrine.
Christian (as Plenus):
Riddles. Visions and riddles. You took her from me. You took her from me. Damn you. Damn your twin-souled priest.”
Christian:
I stand, and wipe the tears from my eyes. I take one last look at the scribbles on the wall in the book. I'm not really focusing in, but is there anything that catches my attention with this as I turn to leave?
Em:
You see a couple phrases scrawled over and over. “Find the twin flame.” “Find him and bind him to the knife.”
There is another in the corner. It hits the wall and the ceiling. “Seek the fire of their end, the bond between them will welcome the nothing.”
And the final that is actually carved into the stone dais itself. “It means nothing if we cannot seek oblivion.”
Christian:
“I think the word oblivion echoes in my brain, and his brain, it echoes, it echoes, it echoes, and I stumble down the stairs, and I stop at the table, and I quickly pull some parchment from my, my robes are pocketed within my robes, and some ink and quill, and I scribble down what I read upstairs.
I'll try to understand this more later, but for now I think I say a prayer, a final prayer before I leave for the men who died. For woman I'd lost. For myself. But I don't pray to Archeveleon and I think I pray to whoever's listening because.. I'm not sure he is anymore. Or if he ever did.
Can I leave out the front door, yes?
Em:
As you step outside the front door of the house, stumbling and trying to get your bearings. You resume your path towards the gate. The feeling, that falling feeling now feels like almost a memory. It was there so strong and then gone so quickly. With each step forward away from the house. Away from the They with No Name.
The caravan comes into view and you see merchants, travelers, whole families. You see acolytes and young holy folk in the garb of the seven, ready to go and provide sermon and faith to the people of the cradle. You see people looking to move, to get on with their lives, to reconnect. A group of people on the cusp of potential. And it seems to be making its final preparations to leave. What would you like to do?
Christian:
How much time do I have before it leaves?
Em:
I'd say probably about quarter to ten at this point, and the first group will leave at ten.
Christian:
How far is my home from where I am right now?
Em:
Oh wow. About an hour but you know that the caravan will be leaving until 2 so if you'd want to double back you can you would have time - you just wouldn't be out with the first group from the caravan.
Christian:
I run back, full sprint. It's an impulse I can't control. I run back, hoping that Katani's still there.
Em:
Okay. You sprint your way through the city, weaving, avoiding the center of the Chime District and the throng of people that are now leaving this procession or this, this staged performance, as you called it. You run back to the fourth district in the opposite direction. You climb the five floors up to your tenement building.
And do you burst through the door? Or how do you go inside your house?
Christian:
I burst through the door.
Em:
She turns, a smile on her face that is quickly overtaken by enormous worry as she sees you come in. She drops the plate that she is washing in your sink and she rushes towards you.
Em (as Katani)
“Plenus, what’s wrong?:
Christian:
Think she sees the blood on my hands, on my robes.
Em (as Katani):
“What is wrong? What happened?”
Christian:
And I take those bloody hands and I wrap them around her face and I kiss her deeply and I say,
Christian (as Plenus):
“I love you. I love you and I'm a coward. And I will have you know that I love you and that I am a coward and that I may not return. This might be the last time you see me, but I will have you know that I love you.”
Em (as Katani):
“Plenus, what are you talking about? Please sit.. you are… you're scaring me. Sit down, please.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“I love you, Katani, I love you.”

Em (as Katani):
“I love you, too.”

Em:
She puts a hand on your face to try and steady you like… She like wraps one hand around your neck so that you can and she… you have seen her do this with her priestesses - her sisters. She takes her temple and she touches it to your temple. The reason the priestesses do this is so that when you do not know yourself there will be another who will know you, and she touches her temple to yours and she says,
Em (as Katani):
“I'm here. I am here, it's alright. Tell me what happened. Please. What do you need? How can I help?”
Christian:
I take her hands and I pull them off of me and put them at her side and I stand back and I disrobe and I show her. The tattoo, which she's seen. And I take her hand and I put it on the tattoo, the scar, and I hold the knife.
Em (as Katani):
Plenus, what is this? What, what? Plenus, you're scaring me.”
Christian:
The bloody knife, I unsheath it.
Em (as Katani):
“What's wrong? What is this? What is this?”
Christian (as Plenus):
“I am Eutoches.”
Em (as Katani):
“You are what?”
Christian (as Plenus):
“Voidwalker.”
Em:
The look on her face is pure shock. You don't think that she's registered any form of fear because it is shock.
Em (as Katani):
“Plenus, what? No, what happened to you? What is wrong? Did you fall? Are you hit? What happened?”
Christian (as Plenus):
Listen to me. Listen to me. Something is happening. There was… another person there...
Em (as Katani):
“Is that…”

Em:
She looks at your hands.
Christian (as Plenus):
“Yes. The void is encroaching. It has always been here, it will always be here. I have a duty.”
Em (as Katani):
“Plenus, what are you talking about? You're talking nonsense. What are you saying? You're not speaking any sense.”
Christian:
And I think realizing that he's acted on pure impulse, selfishly almost, and that this is not the plan. This is not the way. I think he pulls the sleeves up on his robes and presses them taut again and sheaves the knife. And.. and.. And.. pushes her away and… There's an almost, calm that comes back over him on the doorway as he stands there and gathers himself and collects himself. And that stoic stoic demeanor washes over him again almost in an instant. And he..
Christian (as Plenus):
“I will not have you here again.”
Em:
She stands up.

Christian:
And I think he leaves. I think he leaves.
Em:
She stands up. She's smaller, but quicker than you. As you push her backward, she manages to brace herself and she sees you make for the door and she ducks and she stands in it.
Em (as Katani):
“You will not leave before you tell me what is going on. I think I deserve to know at this point. I think I deserve to know the person I have been… spending my time with. The man that I love. Because I do, Plenus. I do love you. And you say you do not want me here, but that is not what you want. is a lie and I will have the truth. Please.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“The truth, Katani, is that it does not matter what I want, or what you want, or what anyone in this blasted city wants. All that matters is the void. Where we were born, and whence we will return. The void. I made a promise.”
Em (as Katani):
“To who? To me? You've made many.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“A woman I loved once. A woman I loved more than you. That is the truth, Katani.”
Em:
Everything else you said, she held steadfast with. But there is such a pain. If you were looking to drive a knife in, that was it. She lets go of the door frame and her eyes drop to the floor.
Em (as Katani):
“I did not expect to be the only one you loved. But if you were aiming to hurt me, so that I would leave, let you go - let you hurt yourself, that you act dangerously. I can see you're trying very hard to do that.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“You’re not listening.”
Em (as Katani):
“You're not making any sense.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“It doesn't matter if you hurt, if I hurt. It doesn’t matter. I will not have you here again.”
Em (as Katani):
“Fine. If that is truly what you wish, Plenus - fine. And regardless of what you feel for me, I will have it known that I stayed steadfast. I did not waver. Unlike you.”
Em:
And she shoves her prayer book in your chest. And she leaves.

Christian:
And he waits a long while, making sure she's gone. And then he sits on the bed and he crawls into the bed into a fetal position like a child and he fishes beneath the robes for the ring. And he holds it. And he cries. And he says a prayer of his own. Her name. Nelle.

And he repeats her name over and over and over until he… can bring himself back to this reality, to this world, feel the scratchy sheets on his skin. The sun on his face. There’s a job that needs doing. All that matters is the mission.
And he collects himself and he heads down the stairs without cleaning the glass that shattered, the plate that fell. Without taking a second look. And then he hits towards the caravan.
Em:
You make your way back to the caravan - with the travel time, I would say about 50% has left already. And you are able to fit right in and move along with it.
Your first stop will be The Foales, which will then take livestock and agriculture towards the rest of the towns, both named and the smaller villages. The first loop of the lower Valley will occur with part of the group splitting to head to the mines of Sinc Eile to gather materials and ore for later refinery in Striogax on the west side. The journey to The Foales takes about a day and a half. So at the time you're leaving, your group with the caravan should get there about midday. Early afternoon tomorrow.
Christian:
I think there's a new sensation that's taking over as he processes with the caravan, and that's hunger. He's been so devout and so pious and so staunch in his devotion to Archeveleon. That hunger has ceased to be a feeling that he has. Because he exists on very modest, meager scraps, because one only needs enough sustenance to continue the mission. And yet, with the events of this morning, there's an overwhelming hunger, like he feels for the first time in ages that he's hungry, that he hasn't eaten, that he needs more than what he needs, what he knows he needs. There's an insatiable appetite there that he's trying to ignore, but as he marches on further and further and the day turns to night, I think that hunger is prevailing and he has to do something to satiate it. So he may trade his scribe, his scribing, his tools for something of a little bit more sustenance, which is almost antithetical to his religion.. his piety. Almost Franciscan approach to his devotion.
Em:
So as you make your way throughout the day, it is...a calm easy day outside. The sun is shining, the breeze is nice, the caravan moves at a reasonable pace. And as you… head towards the evening. The sun dimming and the sky turning from a light hazy blue to this deep dark expanse that spreads across the entire valley. You see pinpricks of light illuminating the main feature of the night sky. The remnants of The River - dried up and desiccated. Normally in the day, a dark set of lines against this brightness is now a cool white. Threads sewn across the above, flecked with gold. Maybe long ago it was all gold or not visible at all. It's been this way as long as you've been able to look up at the sky and understand. This is the last of the Gods magic and they cannot reach it. It taunts them quietly and it taunts you quietly.
Small groups of the caravan begin to break off and make camp, setting up tents and small yurts. There are a few campfires made. This is a well-traveled road. You've little reason to worry about anything dangerous at night. The caravan has parked itself on the edge of the forest that surrounds The Foales. The first finger of this forest, dipping close to the main road that you're traveling on. The caravan made really good time, and you should be able to head out at first light in the morning. You meander your way over to the campfire to get some food, which is provided for everyone. It is a stew. It is rich and hearty with meat and vegetables and a thick sauce, a thick gravy. It smells delicious.
Christian:
So the new thing that's happening here is typically when he travels, as is his way, as is the way, he would only have a piece of bread and some water. sustenance for the mission. Nothing exceeding sustenance. And yet, tonight… in spite of himself. He accepts a bowl of that stew. And he takes that first bite and oh my god. It's been years since he's allowed himself to taste, really taste. My god, it's good. And that first bite becomes... Two bites becomes three bites and…
He finishes it in seconds and he has another bowl. And he finishes that one too. Until he feels sick. A good sick, the kind of sick that brings you pride. And he feels that pride of it. Just a moment.
And I think rather than making my bed with the rest of the caravan, I think… I think he can't stand to be around these people. He'll sneak off maybe to the tip of that finger and find an alcove somewhere quiet. Somewhere where the caravan is still visible. So that he knows at first light he'll be able to see them. The hustle and bustle will wake him and the sounds will carry in his direction so that he can be sure to leave with them, but he doesn't want to be with them tonight. These people. These actors.
Em:
Hmm… This indulgence of the stew. Hunger, the primal indulgence of food. You realize that you have traded one indulgence for another. Eschewed one indulgence for another in this moment.
As you settle into this little alcove, you’ve found yourself in. Your hands go to your pack, ensuring you have everything for your travels, and you brush the sheath that covers your knife. You instinctively cover it with your cloak, hiding it from view, and it's a beautiful piece of weaponry. A majestic dark black steel blade, curved down to an incredibly sharp point, inlaid with purple shining crystal that veins in and out of the metal. You've heard of this gem, seracyte, prized but so rare. And any that is found is seized immediately and ferreted away by the houses of the Major Seven for their own uses. The handle wrapped in a leather so black that your eyes can't focus on it and it's impossible to fathom how deep, how vast, how nothing.
And with everything that's happened today, calling out her name. Your memory is pulled to when you got this knife. What happened?
Christian:
Nelle and I were madly in love. Illogically in love. The kind of love that wars are waged for, peace is struck for. Sets with the sun, breaks the moon. And I wanted nothing more than to spend all of my days, in perpetuity, wrapped inside her. Two bodies, two souls merged into one, and I believed with every fiber of my being that she wanted the same. Until one day, without warning, without cause, she left and she begged me not to follow. She implored, she commanded me not to follow.
And it nearly drove me mad. In fact, I think it did drive me mad. I tore my hair, I cursed the Gods, and I decided to act against her wishes and follow her north into Volim. At a distance, unheard, unseen, doing my best to remain both unheard and unseen. And I saw her with a group of people. And the pain was palpable. It was as if I could taste fear in my mouth, her fear, their fear, growing into something else, something unfamiliar.
And the fear turned to anger. Anger I'd never felt towards her, towards anyone, any being. And anger reserved for the Gods, I think.
Em:
And as you sat in your anger, stewing, cursing the ground you walk on, the skies above you, your perception taken for a second off of her and focusing on yourself, you heard shouting. Voidwalker, Oblivion Filth. And she tried to fend them off, but she couldn't. There was too many, as you watched her be overcome.
Christian:
I did nothing, rooted to the ground like a dying tree, unable to act, unable to save her. Scared. So scared. And when the dust had settled, and when the blood had flown from her body, sinking into the earth. Blood I could smell, my blood, her blood, my blood. Then I could move.
When I did, and I found her there dying, grasping for life, like that person I found in that home earlier today. And when she saw me, there was disappointment.
Em:
Hmm.
Christian:
I watched the life leave her eyes and with it, my life. The life I thought I'd lived, the life I thought I deserved, gone - taken from me. The life I allow to be taken from me. And that's when I saw the knife, clutched in her hands. The knife beckoned me. Eutoches. And that’s when it began. That's when it all began.
Em:
The word echoed around in your brain. You return to a nearby village in a haze, your grip tight on the knife, this new word on your tongue. You knew she carried it on her. But the more you carried it, the more you found yourself losing time staring into it. Then one night, after returning to Glass and to your apartment alone, descended into a fog. You couldn't tell day from night, in and out of sleep. And then one morning you awoke in a cold sweat with a with a sharp pain under your left pectoral.
You cut yourself in your sleep with her knife, your knife. And rather than the blood you'd expect, bright and red, it didn't bleed. Instead, the cut turned black and spread like ink drops. Healing as fast as it had occurred. Eutoches. Eutoches. Eutoches. And the knife began to teach you what you needed to know.
And as you pull yourself from this reverie, nestling yourself into your bedroll, you turn to take one last look at the caravan to make sure it's still there. And it is with a sinking shock that it is not. You look and you see you are immediately alone. There is no one. The caravan is gone.
Christian:
I sit up sharply. I look to the sky, is it still night?
Em:
It's still night. You see the fires that had been lit where the caravan was are still burning. But they are no longer red and orange. They are black, dark, inky, deep. And you feel that nausea start again, in the pit of your stomach and behind your eyes.
Christian:
No, no no.
Em:
It’s pulling you forward. Entreating you.
Christian:
I feel weak. I feel very weak and I struggle to stand but I do, I stand. I clutch the knife, and I move towards the charred earth, the flameless fire. I move towards it.
Em:
As you approach it, the feeling gets more intense, that hook under your sternum almost a harpoon. What would you like to do?
Christian (as Plenus):
“Where are you? Where are you - I know you’re here. Show yourself. Voidwalker.”
Em:
Would you like to roll to recognize a God?
Christian:
Yes, I guess so.
Em:
Okay, this will be your first divine move. So when you want to recognize the signs or influence of a God of the cradle, roll 2d6 and add one for each true statement. You're in or near their domain. Yes, you're familiar with their gospel. Absolutely. It'd be bad if you didn't know. It absolutely would. So you can take whatever you roll and add plus three.
Christian:
That is an eight on the die, for an eleven.
Em:
10+ is an overkill. So on an overkill, you realize your divinity is actively trespassing. And the GM will say how.
Up to this point, your engagement with Archeveleon has been one of choice, partially. The times you have entreated it was your choice. Though you may not have been consenting to the changes that have happened to you and your body, you have still had some agency.
On this omen in front of you, you know it is it. You know it is them. And you think about reaching towards the fire, but instead you are sucked in. And you are blown backwards. Landing, not on the ground outside this forest, but you land on your back on stone floor and you suffer one strain as you hit the ground with a slamming thud.
You're looking upward as if you are at the bottom of a well. It is so dark, with the light of the stars illuminating the top of the well, which looks maybe 300 feet high. That nausea hits you again, another wave, that telltale void-like feeling. The same one you felt in the house. The same one today, over and over. And all at once, that hard feeling beneath your back is gone. Like the well has been turned upside down, and you are now falling. Plummeting.
You fall and you fall and you fall and you reach almost terminal velocity. You fly past pockets of darkness and blackness in the shape of hands that are creeping out and trying to grab at you. What would you like to do?
Christian:
It feels. Like there's a purpose to the falling, finally. Like there's an end, perhaps. And so I think I would aid in the velocity and straighten my body and try and fall faster, quicker.

Em:
The hands reach towards you, just missing you as you actually compact your body and fly downward. Had you done anything else, I was going to make you Tempt Fate, but this seems like a reasonable thing you can do without tempting fate.
Christian:
[laughs] Good.
Em:
So you land again. But rather than with a thud, you just seem to slow down and are suspended… held aloft.
Christian (as Plenus):
“No, no.”
Em:
It is neither enjoyable nor painful, you are just held. And for the first time since you got this knife, it feels like home.
You then hear a low rumble around you, low and guttural, surrounding you and from no point in particular. And as the voice speaks, your head begins to swim and every part of your body feels like a live wire.
Em (as Archeveleon):
“Welcome Something. It has been a long time.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“It’s you. I thought you were… I thought you had abandoned me, abandoned us.”
Em (as Archeveleon):
“I want my end. I want back what is mine.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“I wish nothing more than to give it to you. I wish for my end.”
Em (as Archeveleon):
“Go to her. Hear it and know. And I will see you when you are ready.”
Em:
And just like that, you are let go. And the falling feels real this time. And you are back in the same vision, except it is real. From when you were standing at the shrine to Archeveleon in the other house of the Eutoches. The air is cold and you are panting for breath and you are racing towards the ground. You are maybe three to 400 feet in the air. What would you like to do?
Christian:
I hope it’s the end and so I make myself taught and pick up velocity. race towards the ground hoping it hits.
Em:
As you straighten yourself, you see that you are above a forest. And as you crest the top, you start crashing through the canopy and the tree branches as you cascade towards the forest floor. You suffer two strain as you crash through the trees and hit the ground, falling into piles of leaves.
Christian as Plenus):
“Ah! [winces in pain] Damnit.”
Em:
And as you sit up, regain your composure, you notice that it is getting brighter, like not sun bright, but incandescent white brightness, like very bright, from somewhere deep into the forest behind you. You feel the trees begin to shake and groan and a group of deer sprint past you in the opposite direction, driven by fear, from away from what has now caught your attention. What would you like to do?
Christian:
I think I pull the knife.
Em:
Mm-hmm.
Christian:
I turn towards What I only hope is oblivion death, and I await for it to crest the forest tree line and I think I grow confident, I think I grow strong. And I root myself to the ground.
This realization washes over me that Archeveleon is real, that the mission is true. That perhaps her death was… wasn't for naught. And perhaps foolishly I know, intrinsically I know, that whatever is coming I can kill.
Em:
Mmm. As you brace yourself. You wait for this source of the light to come to you. And yet it seems that wherever it is deeper in the woods, it is standing still stationary.
You are injured, but the words of your God echo in your mind. Go to her. Go to her and know. This feels like you will know if you move toward it.
Christian:
I run... as fast as I can, at full speed.
Em:
You run for about 20 minutes through the woods with the light getting brighter and brighter, and you see there's an edge of a clearing not far ahead. The light is coming from what seems to be the center of the clearing. Would you like to stop running? Would you like to keep running or would you like to try and find a vantage point to see what it is?
Christian:
No, I run directly towards it.
Em:
Okay, okay. As you approach the edge, you see that the light is coming from what you first think is a pond or a body of water, but upon closer look, it seems to be glass, a mirror, a mirror the size of a lake. There's light that seems to be hovering right above the surface of the center, which is what is reflecting and refracting the light upward. You see now that it shines up into the sky like a beacon.
As you broach the clearing's edge, you hear it first, before you see it, the whooshing sound and you barely get a glimpse as you see, hurtling down from the sky, a massive bird. No t made of flesh or feather, but of shadow. It is in freefall dive and it hurtles itself towards the mirror below. A shockwave ripples up and out as the mirror shatters, cracks separating the large plates with a sickening crash accompanied by a guttural scream of pain. You are blown backward against the tree. You manage to stable yourself barely as you crumple down and you see the large bird shadow try and pull itself up and away but it whirls around trying to fly and crest upward before screeching in what sounds like confusion or pain before crashing through the woods, maybe a kilometer beyond the clearing. You hear the sound of trees bending and breaking under something that shouldn't have weight. You are running and you get to the edge of the mirror.
What would you like to do?
Christian:
Can I… can I walk on it? On the mirror that’s a lake? Is the shadow bird on the other side of this lake?
Em:
You saw it directly opposed from you. If you're standing at 6 o'clock, it is at 12 o'clock, and it is far, far into the tree line. You've lost sight of it at this point, but you can. You can walk on this glass, this mirrored surface. The light that is in the center is fading quickly as you see silver viscous fluid running between the gaps of this shattered mirror. It hits your shoes, the edges of your robes, sticking to them.
Christian:
I taste it.
Em:
This is blood. This is divine blood. It is sweet. It tastes like a song, like music. You can hear it instead of taste it. Would you like to roll to Recognize a God?
Christian:
Yes, I guess so.
Em:
So when you would like to recognize the signs or the influence of the God of the cradle, roll 2d6, add one for each true statement. You're in or near their domain, yes. It would be bad if you didn't know, probably not, but you're familiar with their gospel. Though you, as Christian, might not know who this is, Plenus would have some idea. So you can add a plus two to whatever your role is.
Christian:
So 4 and a 3 for a 7 plus 2 is 9.
Em:
Fantastic, that is a hit. On a hit, the GM will give you a clear interpretation of the omens. You may ask your GM a single follow-up question, and they must answer honestly.
So as you're standing here, walking in the midst of this divine blood that tastes like a song, you recognize you are standing in the body of a god. And your mind starts to try and put things together. Music. Shining light. Glass reflection… and your mind settles on the stories of how the goddess of fate weaves the music of the universe together. Allseia, The Reasoned Sister,lies dying in front of you.
You can ask me any follow-up question to that and I will answer you honestly.
Christian:
Can I save her?
Em:
No.
You see the small ball of light in the center. Now barely a fraction of the size of what it was, hovering over the center of the mirror where the main impact is. You can see there are larger pieces, but as you move through, it is shards and slivers of glass the further you go in. You hear a soft musical voice. It is pained and gasping and choked.
Every step you take through the mirror is as if a note plays, a melancholy tune of strings and voice. You have heard many hymns. This could be one of Allseia’s.
Em (as Allseia):
“Plenus.. I am sorry I could not come in time. I am sorry.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“Why me? Why here? Why are you sorry?”
Em (as Allseia):
“Have you found him yet? Your flame?”
Christian (as Plenus):
“My flame?”
Em (as Allseia):
“Do you know who you are?”
Christian (as Plenus):
“Do I… What is it with you guards and these riddles? I don't know anything. I feel you dying.”
Em (as Allseia)
“Then look at him, Plenus.”
Christian (as Plenus):
“At who? Look where?”
Em (as Allseia):
“Then go look at him.”
Em:
A piece of mirror brightens. A larger shard about ten feet to your left. Do you go look?
Christian:
Do I sense if I turn around and look that I risk her dying in the interim?
Em:
The light that she has left is remaining steady. It seems as if she is pulling every ounce of divinity that she carries to maintain herself here, despite being shattered, to give you this what you seek.
Christian:
Deep molecular fear ripples throughout his body starting from where that scar is under his left pectoral, and shoots out all across till it reaches his fingertips… and I turn and look in the mirror.
Em:
Peering in and looking down, where you should see yourself reflected in the same body posture, movements, and facial expressions. You see a handsome, but gaunt, man staring at you. Taller than you by a couple inches, his face is weathered. Maybe even as gaunt as yours. His hair is white. Long, but tied up in a bun. With a leather cord from which hangs a small golden cat skull. He has a similarly white beard unkempt at this point, one of his eyes gold and yellow, the other a deep purple, and holds a sadness that strikes true to the heart of you. You know because you have felt that sadness. He wears a simple white linen tunic, brown pants and boots with a rapier at his side, and a very familiar knife.
Christian:
I think… I think that Plenus is smart. And I think he's cunning when he needs to be. And I think that's smart and that cunning falls away and all that's left is realization. And I record every feature of this face. I stare deep, deep into the eyes.
Em:
And as you stare in.. As you take that brief moment to stare in and look a bit closer, the face does as well, mirroring your movements, looking as confused as you are.
Em (as Allseia):
“It is you, Plennis. Half of you is here, and half of you is beyond, where he waits for you. I do not want to die, but all things do. I could not see my own, but I see yours. I have been watching you since I found out. I know the prophecy was early, but the weave keeps the metre. I just read and interpret. I tried to figure out what to do, and I am sorry. I am so sorry.”
Christian:
I think I break my gaze from the mirror, knowing in my soul what is true. Iturn towards that light, and I say,
Christian (as Plenus):
“I can offer you a swift end, Allseia, if you allow me to.”
Em (as Allseia):
“Will you let me share something with you first?”
Christian (as Plenus):
“I dont want to know.”
Em (as Allseia):
“Maybe not knowledge, if truly that is not what you want. You must find him, Plenus. If not for the God you follow, then for me. So that I may have my one last wish, that your song sings true to what the fate has written, then you make your choice about your charge. Your half of the twin soul will have so much to learn and much to decide.”
Em:
With these last few words, you see a glimpse of a small part of a face across the thousands of broken shards in the center impact. Small petite features with white freckles across rosy skin, their eyes gray and bright seem to crinkle slightly as she speaks to you despite what must be immense pain.

Em (as Allseia):
“Let me give you this, what is left of me. When the light fades, it is yours, and I will take you to him.”
Christian:
He nods.
Em:
The small ball of light in the center extends out almost in a ribbon and wraps itself around your arm, snaking its way up towards the center of your chest. And for someone who has felt in the dark for so long, it is whiplash, to be held so strongly in the light.
You feel a burning, searing sensation as it stings. And just for a moment, that hollow feeling that has plagued you since you found the knife disappears. She holds you there for a moment. The last vestige of her divinity grasping at you. Pleading to you.
Em (as Allseia):
“He will meet you as you will meet him. If what is prophesied will come to pass. My mother, my mother wanted to stop it, but she should know she cannot. She cannot stop what she cannot understand.
Now, go. Plenus, son of the Void. Go.”
Em:
Then the light that sits over the center of your chest begins to burn and seems to strike through you. Blood drips from its impact on your chest, and as it pools on the glass below, mixing with the blood of Allseia, the Reasoned Sister. The light expands brighter, bigger, as your vision becomes overtaken, with divinity surging through you as you have witnessed the death of a god and been gifted some of her power.
You are nothing but light.”
[‘Something & Nothing: Plenus’ Theme’ begins, composed by Sean McRoberts]

Em:
Godkiller: Oblivion is performed by Em Carlson, Christian Navarro & Jannes Wessels. Special thanks to our campaign artist, Mischi. You can find her at @Mischiart on Twitter, as well as to Sean McRoberts, for our composing ‘Something & Nothing’, our main theme for this episode. Music and effects by Epidemic Sound. For more stories, come follow us everywhere at @blackwaterdnd, and make sure to check out our Main Campaign on Monday nights at 8pm PST at twitch.tv/blackwaterdnd. To play your own campaign of Godkiller and dive into your own divinity, go support Godkiller by purchasing the ashcan on itch.io today. This show is made possible by our patrons, and sponsors who graciously support us playing pretend and having feelings about it. You too can come join us on Patreon, where you can check out behind the scenes info, our talkback show Chatwater, as well as exclusive series like this one! Head on over to patreon.com/blackwaterdnd for all the info.

See you next time, heretics, and to all the gods out there, be safe!