[ wow ......................... what happened to the yap. ]
It was her command that I detonate the orb. That in doing so I would earn a chance at her forgiveness. Or, I suppose as Elminster so eloquently put it: she would consider what she considers to be forgiveness.
Ah, yes, it is a distinction to be made on account of what happens to my remains and any ability normally found within our world to, say, reconstitute my corporeal form. In some cases, death through misadventure can be remedied by a quick enough cleric, or a slower but more talented one. Death in this way renders me beyond such aide.
I dislike that when I ask a question, I receive an answer that would normally be worth an entire conversation on its own. It makes it more difficult to discern which conversation thread to follow.
You are certainly not reassuring me you do not plan to make rather awful commentary on what I am about to tell you, but I suppose you have asked for it.
[ maybe i feel bad giving you ALL HUGE WALLS OF TEXT. but famine did specifically ask for it so perhaps i am not sorry at all. ]
Mystra. The mother of all magic. [ the goddess' name. if they care. they probably do not. ] We met when I was quite young - I began my study of magic almost as soon as I could speak. I was a prodigy, adept at the Weave far beyond most from an early age. And it began to draw notice, for you see, Mystra is aware of every plucked strand from her domain. She was a teacher. A mentor. A muse. Eventually, a lover. She named me Chosen One. A mortal emissary, a sign of her adoration. Or at least, what would pass for a god's love. Perhaps it is not quite the same thing as what a mortal might feel. But ... I was very young, and very in love. It was close enough to me.
Mystra is the arbiter of all magic. She enforces the boundaries that wizards dare not cross, and only a handful have ever scratched more than the surface of the Weave. But I was greedy. Selfish. Every time I was with her, I looked beyond the precipice and dreamed of the creation that could be made if only I was allowed to step over that line. To follow in the path of the great Netheril mages, of her Chosen of ages past. To wield the Silver Fire. To cast a Mythal. I pleaded and pouted and begged. I told her that my ambition would only be to serve her better, to work in her name, to prove my love for her and her craft. She only ever smiled, and told me to be contented with what I had.
Over time her interest waned. Perhaps my constant pushing at her boundaries had tired her. Or what I was doing with her magic was simply not enough. I came up with a plan. I would draw her attention, her respect, back to myself with a gesture. I've never been one for flowers and chocolates, so I set to research. I found that after all this time, a small piece of her and her Weave remained locked away. Ancient magic from the most powerful mages that ever lived that they had sealed within a tome. I spent a great amount of time and expense tracking it down and when I finally obtained it, I was certain. I would retrieve this one tiny diamond, and restore her crown to perfection.
It was not to be so. When I opened the tome, instead it was ... this. [ he gestures to his chest. ] I should have died. I hesitate to call myself lucky I survived, but at any rate it was a strange twist of fate.
For more than a year, I locked myself in my tower and begged for her aide, her advice, anything at all and received nothing but silence.
[ puts this wall of text in my mouth and eats it whole
famine listens thoughtfully, not emoting too obviously behind the mask, aside from a thought 'huh' here and there. not to interrupt, but the brief verbal tones to indicate that one is still listening. ]
So your goddess claimed to love you, told you to rein back your enthusiasm without explanation, and then neglected you when you needed her most?
[ well. they don't sound impressed, but they don't seem to be judgmental of gale in this case. ]
[ he just listens to this breakdown of it (which is correct, and accurate) with a mildly dark expression. normally he has quite a thick layer of forced cheer, but the story has drained him a bit. he grimaces when they call her cruel, however. ]
... And when disaster threatened the mortal world, she most certainly had a conveniently explosive Rook in place upon the board in an ideal position to sacrifice for the sake of the game. One that would do anything for a chance at her forgiveness.
[ ... ]
From another perspective then. I claimed to love her alone, all the while coveting her creation above her. Ignored her warnings and let only blind ambition guide me down a path well-tred by myriad examples of the outcome of such follies. Was always jealous and insecure when her attentions shifted, as if one mortal has any right to the sole devotion of a god. And was then rightfully cast aside as someone with the potentiality to do her and the world great harm, good intentions or not.
It is no small thing to be Chosen. Whatever life one claimed to lead before can now only follow.
[ but what life did he lead before when he was eight years old the first time they met? from another another perspective, lest we not forget to do some quick back-of-the-napkin r/relationships math on when all this began to unfold. ]
You are mortal, and you became infatuated when pitifully young. If she is so ancient and mighty, even if she is not bound to the same logic as others, then I hesitate to call her justified. There was probably some adoration for the power offered, but just as you might try to forgive her for her manipulation of you, as a third party I can call it batshit insane and duplicitous.
[ sure famine don't mince words even though gale is clearly wrestling with this ]
It is not to absolve you of your doings. If she is flawed, then so too are you.
However I expect human folly. Behavior of the so-called ancient deities, who act as outside observers of the world, ought be something better than what you were given.
[ okay so the "no!" being said here isn't like. objecting to the declaration it is insane. he doesn't disagree. it is the use of the phrase "batshit insane." it is more the type of no you yell at a cat eating plastic. please don't call the goddess of magic "batshit"!!!!! it's disrespectful!!!!!!!!! ]
[ it's fine. its just sort of the reaction you might get out of a church kid if you said "fuck" in the middle of service. ]
... Well! You certainly don't mince words.
[ honestly this is not entirely ... unappreciative. sometimes it's actually good to hear "hey that thing that happened to you was crazy fucked up!" and he has not actually heard that plainly all that often. Or possibly at all? ]
I suppose I might agree. Folly is often the domain of wizards, or they wouldn't call all our worst, most ignominious mistakes as our named follies. [ karsus' folly, gale's folly, etc etc etc ] But often divinity does not understand the mortal mind, much as we misunderstand in reverse.
[ well the "no!" just manages to get famine to laugh extremely hard. like they get a kick out of being horribly sacrilegious or something ]
I only express what is deserved.
[ absolutely unabashed ]
I do not doubt that. There are times where I find other people difficult to comprehend as well. However, to claim affection for someone—then I would endeavor to understand them, the whole of them, to the darkest and most pitiful depths of their soul. I would not turn them away when they seek me.
Anything less does not read to me as true devotion.
[ okay!!!! romantic. that is very romantic. "it contains a whole statement about the darkest and most pitiful depths of the soul" yeah that's romantic as shit. this is fucking him up man. anyway. ]
Then I suppose this is what distinguishes your heart from that of true gods. To feel devotion is mortal. To expect devotion ... to call a follower to the altar and have them give everything, then yet demand still more, is divinity.
[ okay well when your last girlfriend broke up with you by sending your surrogate dad to meet you with a "kill yourself" message then maybe just the very idea of someone loving you back is the Sauce ]
Hah! Alright. I believe we've dug ourselves a rather deep ditch here. Everyone is allowed to vent frustrations with the great divine host but when we start declaring the age of Ao is over and the gods will be cast down from their heavenly seats perhaps it is a good time for a rest. [ YOURE GETTING HANGRY. ] Believe me, deep enough in the cups in the Blackstaff Tower dormitories you'll hear much the same, and it rather all strikes me as standing on a hilltop in a thunderstorm in copper armor and claiming Talos cannot aim.
One has to question if this cult has made this sacrifice so appealing as to invite curiosity from self-selecting outsiders, that perhaps they are intelligent enough to consider that the idea of spilling blood would make most balk at the bit?
If only in my experience, I would not rule out they will make it ever more appealing for you. Enough so you will reconsider your line in the sand.
Perhaps for the others. I cannot deny that some of their promises must sound tempting to the desperate and those in want of more that they cannot achieve themselves. Though I do think that the four of us have our own reasons to be able to resist.
[ shrugs ]
In my case, there is nothing so grand I desire that I would forsake you, or anyone else here. I know this about myself.
Would you indulge my curiosity? War posed to me an interesting question and I’d care to know your answer. If we were comprised solely of the morally bankrupt - murderers and mutilators, criminals and culprits - would you consider going through with this?
[ hmmmm. it's probably telling enough that famine seems to take a second to actually think about this. ]
Is it my turn for a wordier answer? Though if there's any concept that merits it, I suppose it's the matter of life and death.
Whether or not I think a criminal's life is forfeit depends on if all other rehabilitation processes failed. It'd be more worth considering than whether or not I'd accept killing children, admittedly. But it's not as though every criminal and murderer automatically deserves death. Some of you still count. And I suppose children can be murderers.
But I do think ultimately, I would still oppose the sacrifice of life. For myself, it is only to answer curiosity without any true, grand purpose. If I had one, maybe. As it stands, I don't.
[ okay for once in his damn life, he allows a stray thought to be caught in a filter and does not voice it out loud. but all four of you need like. a hobby. start doing jigsaw puzzles or something instead of joining blood cults. ]
Thank you, a very thorough answer and it is appreciated. So, no true grand purpose at all?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ wow ......................... what happened to the yap. ]
It was her command that I detonate the orb. That in doing so I would earn a chance at her forgiveness. Or, I suppose as Elminster so eloquently put it: she would consider what she considers to be forgiveness.
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So your breakup is part of—what did you call it? What unmade you?
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[ he got distracted talking about being dead ]
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I dislike that when I ask a question, I receive an answer that would normally be worth an entire conversation on its own. It makes it more difficult to discern which conversation thread to follow.
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Famine
TOPICS TO REVISIT: Resurrection. ]
Yes?
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No, I don't care about resurrection. I care about your probably tortured thoughts surrounding your own death.
[ okay maybe don't just say that to someone ]
But I think I was asking about your bad breakup with a goddess.
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You are certainly not reassuring me you do not plan to make rather awful commentary on what I am about to tell you, but I suppose you have asked for it.
[ maybe i feel bad giving you ALL HUGE WALLS OF TEXT. but famine did specifically ask for it so perhaps i am not sorry at all. ]
Mystra. The mother of all magic. [ the goddess' name. if they care. they probably do not. ] We met when I was quite young - I began my study of magic almost as soon as I could speak. I was a prodigy, adept at the Weave far beyond most from an early age. And it began to draw notice, for you see, Mystra is aware of every plucked strand from her domain. She was a teacher. A mentor. A muse. Eventually, a lover. She named me Chosen One. A mortal emissary, a sign of her adoration. Or at least, what would pass for a god's love. Perhaps it is not quite the same thing as what a mortal might feel. But ... I was very young, and very in love. It was close enough to me.
Mystra is the arbiter of all magic. She enforces the boundaries that wizards dare not cross, and only a handful have ever scratched more than the surface of the Weave. But I was greedy. Selfish. Every time I was with her, I looked beyond the precipice and dreamed of the creation that could be made if only I was allowed to step over that line. To follow in the path of the great Netheril mages, of her Chosen of ages past. To wield the Silver Fire. To cast a Mythal. I pleaded and pouted and begged. I told her that my ambition would only be to serve her better, to work in her name, to prove my love for her and her craft. She only ever smiled, and told me to be contented with what I had.
Over time her interest waned. Perhaps my constant pushing at her boundaries had tired her. Or what I was doing with her magic was simply not enough. I came up with a plan. I would draw her attention, her respect, back to myself with a gesture. I've never been one for flowers and chocolates, so I set to research. I found that after all this time, a small piece of her and her Weave remained locked away. Ancient magic from the most powerful mages that ever lived that they had sealed within a tome. I spent a great amount of time and expense tracking it down and when I finally obtained it, I was certain. I would retrieve this one tiny diamond, and restore her crown to perfection.
It was not to be so. When I opened the tome, instead it was ... this. [ he gestures to his chest. ] I should have died. I hesitate to call myself lucky I survived, but at any rate it was a strange twist of fate.
For more than a year, I locked myself in my tower and begged for her aide, her advice, anything at all and received nothing but silence.
no subject
famine listens thoughtfully, not emoting too obviously behind the mask, aside from a thought 'huh' here and there. not to interrupt, but the brief verbal tones to indicate that one is still listening. ]
So your goddess claimed to love you, told you to rein back your enthusiasm without explanation, and then neglected you when you needed her most?
[ well. they don't sound impressed, but they don't seem to be judgmental of gale in this case. ]
Cruel of her.
no subject
... And when disaster threatened the mortal world, she most certainly had a conveniently explosive Rook in place upon the board in an ideal position to sacrifice for the sake of the game. One that would do anything for a chance at her forgiveness.
[ ... ]
From another perspective then. I claimed to love her alone, all the while coveting her creation above her. Ignored her warnings and let only blind ambition guide me down a path well-tred by myriad examples of the outcome of such follies. Was always jealous and insecure when her attentions shifted, as if one mortal has any right to the sole devotion of a god. And was then rightfully cast aside as someone with the potentiality to do her and the world great harm, good intentions or not.
It is no small thing to be Chosen. Whatever life one claimed to lead before can now only follow.
[ but what life did he lead before when he was eight years old the first time they met? from another another perspective, lest we not forget to do some quick back-of-the-napkin r/relationships math on when all this began to unfold. ]
no subject
[ sure famine don't mince words even though gale is clearly wrestling with this ]
It is not to absolve you of your doings. If she is flawed, then so too are you.
However I expect human folly. Behavior of the so-called ancient deities, who act as outside observers of the world, ought be something better than what you were given.
1/2
[ okay so the "no!" being said here isn't like. objecting to the declaration it is insane. he doesn't disagree. it is the use of the phrase "batshit insane." it is more the type of no you yell at a cat eating plastic. please don't call the goddess of magic "batshit"!!!!! it's disrespectful!!!!!!!!! ]
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... Well! You certainly don't mince words.
[ honestly this is not entirely ... unappreciative. sometimes it's actually good to hear "hey that thing that happened to you was crazy fucked up!" and he has not actually heard that plainly all that often. Or possibly at all? ]
I suppose I might agree. Folly is often the domain of wizards, or they wouldn't call all our worst, most ignominious mistakes as our named follies. [ karsus' folly, gale's folly, etc etc etc ] But often divinity does not understand the mortal mind, much as we misunderstand in reverse.
no subject
I only express what is deserved.
[ absolutely unabashed ]
I do not doubt that. There are times where I find other people difficult to comprehend as well. However, to claim affection for someone—then I would endeavor to understand them, the whole of them, to the darkest and most pitiful depths of their soul. I would not turn them away when they seek me.
Anything less does not read to me as true devotion.
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Then I suppose this is what distinguishes your heart from that of true gods. To feel devotion is mortal. To expect devotion ... to call a follower to the altar and have them give everything, then yet demand still more, is divinity.
no subject
but famine's expression is hard to read behind the mask. there is the emotional vibe of an eye roll ]
While not to say that I don't expect similar devotion in kind... [ they aren't that generous ]
Perhaps then true gods don't need to exist.
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Hah! Alright. I believe we've dug ourselves a rather deep ditch here. Everyone is allowed to vent frustrations with the great divine host but when we start declaring the age of Ao is over and the gods will be cast down from their heavenly seats perhaps it is a good time for a rest. [ YOURE GETTING HANGRY. ] Believe me, deep enough in the cups in the Blackstaff Tower dormitories you'll hear much the same, and it rather all strikes me as standing on a hilltop in a thunderstorm in copper armor and claiming Talos cannot aim.
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I can say whatever I want, as someone who comes from a place that certainly has no gods. [ but maybe they are also hangry. who knows ]
Would you not want to see such a world for yourself? Where there is no one but yourself to determine the greatest limits of your ambition and ability?
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[ every one of these NPCs is so wizard-brained. this is terrible you guys. bad things are going to happen and its going to rock.
gale shakes his head, just a little. ]
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Though I have also hit the limit on that curiosity involving blood sacrifice.
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If only in my experience, I would not rule out they will make it ever more appealing for you. Enough so you will reconsider your line in the sand.
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[ shrugs ]
In my case, there is nothing so grand I desire that I would forsake you, or anyone else here. I know this about myself.
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Is it my turn for a wordier answer? Though if there's any concept that merits it, I suppose it's the matter of life and death.
Whether or not I think a criminal's life is forfeit depends on if all other rehabilitation processes failed. It'd be more worth considering than whether or not I'd accept killing children, admittedly. But it's not as though every criminal and murderer automatically deserves death. Some of you still count. And I suppose children can be murderers.
But I do think ultimately, I would still oppose the sacrifice of life. For myself, it is only to answer curiosity without any true, grand purpose. If I had one, maybe. As it stands, I don't.
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Thank you, a very thorough answer and it is appreciated. So, no true grand purpose at all?
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but famine shakes their head ]
No. Not any longer. A few projects here and there, but the opportunity to do this instead caught me in the middle of a lull. So I ended up taking it.
(no subject)
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